Qptain  Jack 


An  Historical  Novel 


Charles  Ms  Knight 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


THE  LIBRARY 
OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


f 


CAPTAIN  JACK  THE  SCOUT 

OR 

THE  INDIAN  WARS  ABOUT  OLD 
FORT  DUQUESNE 

AN   HISTORICAL  NOVEL 

BY 

CHARLES  MCKNIGHT 

ILLUSTRATED 


"A  poor  humor  of  mine,  sir,  to  take  that,  that  no  man  etsf  will" 

"  As  You  LIKK  IT" 


THE  JOHN  C.  WINSTON  CO., 

PHILADELPHIA, 
CHICAGO,  TORONTO. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1873,  by 

CHARLES  MCKNIGHT, 

in  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington,  D.  C 


PS 


DEDICATION. 


t^      Between  the  two  rivers  which  enclose  the  great  and  growing  city 
of  Pittsburg  stood  the  old  French  fort  which  gives  name  to  our  story. 
Q~  Within  a  brief  distance  lies  the  scene  of  Braddock's  bloody  battle 
£e  and  disastrous  defeat;  which,  together  with  the  remarkable  expedition 
~  that  terminated  there,  form,  as  it  were,  the  central  points  of  this  his 
torical  novel.     It  seems  most  appropriate,  therefore,  as  it  certainly  is 
most  agreeable  to  the  Author,  that  to  the 

PEOPLE  OF  PITTSBURG, 

CM 

>•  among  whom  he  has  passed  his  whole  life,  and  whose  sturdy  virtues 

z  and  contempt  for  shams  he  has  ever  respected,  this  attempt  to  weave 
into  a  readable  romance  some  of  the  stirring  events  connected  with 

,  the  struggle  for  their  old  fort,  and  to  introduce  a  few  of  the  more 
j  notable  characters,  white  and  red,  who  lived  or  fought  along  their 
^  three  rivers,  should  be,  as  it  now  is,  respectfully  dedicated. 

O 

ol 


448123 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

FORT  DUQUESNE,  from  an  old  print Frontispiece. 

COLONEL  JOHNSON  (afterwards  Sir  William  Johnson)  .    .    .  PAGE  24 

JAMES  HAMILTON,  Governor  of  Pennsylvania 44 

GENERAL  EDWARD  BRADDOCK,  from  an  etching  by  H.  B.  Hall,  98 

CAPTAIN  BEAUJEAU,  from  an  engraving  by  J.  A.  O'Neill  .    .  120 

GEORGE  WASHINGTON  (Major  Washington),  from  a  miniature 

on  ivory 202 

GENERAL  THOMAS  GAGE,  from  a  private  plate 238 

SIR  PETER  HALKET,  from  an  engraving  by  McArdell,  after 

a  painting  by  A.  Ramsay 258 

GENERAL  SIR  JOHN  ST.  CLAIR,  from  an  engraving  by  Max 

Rosenthal 290 

CAPTAIN  ORME,  from  an  engraving  by  Parkes,  after  a  paint 
ing  by  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds 310 

COLONEL  HENRY  BOUQUET,  from  an  engraving  by  Armstrong, 

after  a  painting  by  Benjamin  West 380 

MAJOR  JAMES  GRANT,  from  an  engraving  by  J.  Kay   .    .    .  462 


PREFACE. 


IT  Is  rather  an  odd  coincidence,  that  part  of  the  title  of 
this  book  bears  precisely  the  same  name  as  that  of  the  now 
famous  Modoc  Chieftain,  whose  late  exploits  are  familiar 
to  the  whole  nation.  We  need  only  say  in  explanation  that 
our  Captain  Jack  was  a  veritable  character  in  Colonial  an- 
nals,  known  as  a  famous  border-ranger  along  the  whole 
Pennsylvania  frontier,  and  that  the  historical  novel,  in  which 
he  is  made  to  figure  as  the  hero,  was  not  only  written  but 
was  in  print,  before  the  author  even  so  much  as  heard  there 
was  another  Captain  Jack,  of  a  deeper  color,  whose  bloody 
and  desperate  deeds  give  him  a  rather  bad  pre-eminence.  A 
brief  biographical  notice  of  the  Pennsylvania  Jack  will  be 
found  in  the  Appendix  at  the  end  of  this  volume. 

The  object  of  the  present  book  may  be  expressed  in  few 
words.  The  spot  where  now  stands  the  great  and  prosperous 
city  of  Pittsburgh,  was  once  a  place  not  only  of  national, 
but  of  world-wide  importance.  Great  Britain,  France,  Great 
Britain  again,  Virginia,  the  United  States,  and,  lastly,  Penn 
sylvania,  have  each,  in  turn,  exercised  sovereignty  over  it. 
In  1774  it  was  the  field  of  controversy  between  neighboring 
States,  and  in  1794  was,  with  the  circumjacent  territory,  the 
scene  of  a  formidable  insurrection. 

"  Old  Fort  Duquesne  "  existed  but  about  five  years,  yet 
during  that  brief  time  was  a  place  of  great  importance  and 
over-shadowing  interest.  It  was  the  first  point  of  struggle 
between  the  French  and  English  for  the  possession  of  all  the 
vast  domain  watered  by  the  Ohio  and  Mississippi  rivers  and 
their  tributaries.  If  not  the  cause,  it  formed  the  occasion 
of  the  celebrated  "  Seven  Years  War,"  which  involved  at 

* 


6  PREFACE. 

most  all  Europe  in  desperate  conflict.  It  was  the  object  of 
Uraddock's  far-famed  though  ill-fated  expedition,  termina 
ting  in  one  of  the  most  disastrous  defeats  ever  known  to 
history,  and,  by  consequence,  the  ruthless  scourging  of  the 
Pennsylvania  border  by  savages,  from  the  Potomac  to  the 
J  uniata. 

Then  ensued  the  memorable  defeat  of  Grant  and  his  High- 
lan  lers  at  a  point  in  the  very  centre  of  the  present  city  of 
Pittsburgh ;  the  advance  of  General  Forbes'  British  Ameri 
can  army ;  the  evacuation  and  destruction  of  Fort  Duquesne 
by  the  French,  and  the  subsequent  construction  of  the  costly 
and  formidable  Fort  Pitt,  which  endured  even  to  the  present 
century. 

It  is  fitting,  therefore,  that  some  "  Old  Mortality  "should 
essay — with  what  success  the  kind  reader  must  determine— 
to  re-grave  the  almost  effaced  and  perishing  lines  of  a  long- 
distant  past ;  should  seek  to  weave  together  in  a  readable 
form  the  more  memorable  and  interesting  events  of  that  very 
exciting  period  ;  to  revive  some  of  the  more  striking  historic 
associations  which  cluster  about  the  old  French  fort ;  to  fight 
over  again  the  disastrous  battle  of  Braddock's  Fields,  and, 
finally,  to  introduce  the  most  notable  persons  engaged— In 
dian  chiefs,  white  scouts,  and  prominent  officers,  the  more 
important  of  whom  were  Braddock  and  Washington. 

It  is,  therefore,  to  such  a  distant  and  almost  forgotten  past 
that  we  have  the  boldness  to  invite  the  reader's  attention, 
and  it  is  in  the  fortunes  of  the  old  French  fort  which  stood 
at  the  head  of  the  Ohio  that  we  seek  to  engage  his  interest 
and  occupy  his  fancies. 


CONTENTS. 


rial 

I.— Pittsburgh  :— 1873-1755 9 

II. — Who  composed  the  Scouting  Party 13 

III.— A  Lookout  over  the  Fort 20 

IV. — Captain  Gist  relates  some  Adventures 26 

V. — An  exciting  Chase  and  Escape 32 

VI. — Chase  abandoned — A  strange  Mystery 38 

VII. — Captain  Jack  and  the  Half-King,  Scarooyaddy 42 

VIII. — Down  the  Monongahela 49 

IX. — A  strange  Scene  in  the  Wilderness 63 

X.— Two  9ld  Friends  Meet  again 69 

XI. — Jack  and  Marie  make  Discoveries 65 

XII. — In  which  a  Retrospect  is  Taken 70 

XIII. — De  Bonneville — Marie — Wau-ki-na 76 

XIV. — Jack  and  the  Half-king  continue  their  Scout 80 

XV.— The  Visit  to  old  King  Shingiss 86 

XVI.— A  Council  of  Delaware  Chiefs 91 

XVII.— Jack  and  the  Half-King  meet  Foes 98 

XVIII.— The  Half-King's  Desperation— Jack's  Adventure....  103 

XIX.— What  befel  Gist,  Talbot,  and  Fairfax 108 

XX.— Lord  Talbot  forced  to  Run  the  Gauntlet 117 

XXI.— Lord  Talbot  Inside  the  Guard  House 123 

XXII.— Talbot  makes  Friends  with  Smith 132 

XXIII.— Two  Indian  Canoe  Races 145 

XXIV.— The  Second  Race  and  Ball  Match 152 

XXV.— The  Escape  of  Talbot  and  Smith 15' 

XXVI. — Captain  Jack  Rejoins  Marie ,  161 

XXVII. — Scarooyaddy  come  to  Life  again 17i 

XXVIII.— Wau-ki-na  Leaves— The  Party  Pursued 180 

XXIX.— Desperate  Attacks— Jack's  Feats 187 

XXX.— De  Bonneville  Shot— A  Desperate  Struggle 194 

XXXI.— M.  De  Bonneville's  Dying  Request 201 

7 


cmirrn  FAO« 

XXXII.— The  Death  of  the  old  Naturalist 208 

XXXIII.— The  Burial  and  Departure 214 

XXXIV.— They  Come  on  Eraddock's  Army 221 

XXXV.— The  Dead  Chief—  Braddock's  Army 230 

XXXVI.— The  Burial— General  Daniel  Morgan 237 

XXXVII.— Marie  and  Major  Washington...'. 241 

XXXVIII.— Major  Washington  and  Captain  Jack 259 

XXXIX.— Sir  Peter  Halket  sees  Death 257 

XL. — The  Delaware  Queen,  Alaquippa 26 J 

XLI.— Talbot  and  Smith  in  Prison 265 

XLIL— Wau-ki-na  and  Talbot— The  Ball  Match 271 

XLIII. — A  Quarrel  among  Indians 278 

XLIV.— Grand  Council— The  Chiefs  Refuse 285 

XLV.— The  Advance  to  the  Battle  Field 290 

XLVI.— The  Opening  of  the  Battle 296 

XLVII.— Sir  Peter  Halket's  Death— Fearful  Slaughter 303 

XLVIIL— General  Braddock's  Retreat  and  Death 310 

XLIX.— Marie  Gone— Jack  on  the  Trail 317 

L.— Talbot  and  Smith— Fort  Rejoicings 321 

LI.— The  Victors  Return  from  the  Battle 327 

LII.— Horrible  Tortures  of  Prisoners 333 

LIII.— Jack  and  the  Half-King  on  a  Trail 337 

LIV. — Marie  and  Wau-ki-na  Found 346 

LV. — Jack  makes  a  strange  Discovery 353 

LVL— Nymwha  Claims  and  Takes  Talbot 362 

LVII.— Talbot  made  a  Shawnee  Chief 372 

LVIII.— Talbot  makes  a  Sensation 380 

LIX.— Talbot  and  Wau-ki-na  Explain 384 

LX.— Jack  and  Pipe  Meet  in  Conflict 392 

LXI.— The  Escape  up  the  Allegheny 400 

LXIL— A  Stange  but  Happy  Meet 407 

LXIII. — Jack  and  Marie  by  the  Rapids « 416 

LXIV.— Talbot  and  Jack  Have  a  Talk 422 

LXV. — A  Marriage  in  the  Woods 430 

LXVL— The  Journey  to  Philadelphia 437 

LXVII. — Jack's  Home  on  the  Juniata 448 

LXVIII.— Talbot  Meets  Wau-ki-na  again..... 451 

LXIX.— The  Fortunes  of  Old  Fort  Duquesne „.., 460 

APPENDIX...  „.  469 


OLD  FORT  DUQUESNE. 


CHAPTER  I. 

PITTSBURGH — 1873 — 1755. 

MY  father  was  mighty  Vulcan ; 

I  am  smith  of  the  land  and  sea, 
And  the  cunning  spirit  of  Tubal  Cain, 

Came  with  my  marrow  to  me. 
I  am  monarch  of  all  the  forges ; 

I  have  solved  the  riddle  of  fire ; 
The  Amen  of  Nature  to  need  of  Man, 

Springeth  at  my  desire. 

I  search  with  the  subtle  soul  of  flame 

The  heart  of  the  rocky  Earth, 
And  out  from  my  hammers,  the  prophecies 

Of  the  miracle  years  flash  forth. 
I  am  brown  with  the  soot  of  my  furnace ; 

I  drip  with  the  sweats  of  toil ; 
My  fingers  throttle  the  savage  wastes, 

And  tear  the  curse  from  the  soil. 

Hymn  of  Pittsburgh,  by  Kichard  Eealf. 

STRANGER,  should  a  leisure  day  ever  happen  you  in 
Pittsburgh,  be  sure  to  take  car  of  the  "inclined  railway" 
and  be  swiftly  conveyed  to  the  summit  of  the  lofty  and 
precipitous  hills  which  stretch  along  the  thither  side  of  the 
Mouongahela.  Then  walk  along  the  comb  of  "  Coal  Hill " 
from  the  Suspension  Bridge  down  to  "  Saw  Mill  Run,"  and 
-  if  the  day  be  a  clear  one — such  a  strange,  busy,  and 

9 


10  OLD   FORT   DUQUE3XE. 

withal,  beautiful  scene,  \vill  fill  your  eye,  and  such  a  huic 
and  buzz,  and  clamor — greatly  deadened  by  distance — . 
strike  your  ear,  as  have  no  parallel  anywhere— certainly 
not  on  this  continent. 

At  one  coup  d'ceil,  three  broad  and  affluent  rivers,  "with 
their  teeming  valleys,  lie  stretched  beneath  you,  the  line 
of  separation  between  the  muddy  and  sluggish  waters  of 
the  Monongahela,  and  the  clearer  and  more  rapid  waters 
of  the  Allegheny,  boing  most  distinctly  and  curiously 
marked  for  some  distance  down  the  Ohio. 

Ranges  of  bold  and  picturesque  hills  jostle  and  overlap 
each  other  on  every  side ;  here  shooting  up  in  savage  and 
craggy  heights,  and  there  rolling  back  from  the  waters  in 
graceful  curves  and  billowy  slopes.  All  the  ledges,  "  bot 
toms,"  and  gentler  inclines  on  both  sides  of  each  river,  are 
crowded  with  blocks  of  dingy,  smoke-stained  houses ;  streets 
creeping  up  the  sides  or  pushing  over  the  very  summits  of 
the  hills ;  villas  and  mansions  nestling  in  the  favored 
nooks,  or  daring  the  dizzy  heights;  mills  and  factories 
hugging  the  hill  sides  as  if  fighting  for  place  to  live  and 
work;  "pillars  of  cloud  by  day,  and  of  fire  by  night," 
from  countless  mills,  forges,  furnaces,  ovens  and  foundries, 
and  then,  with  all  this,  there  surges  up  to  your -vexed  ear, 
wave  upon  wave  of  indefinite  sounds — the  heavy  thud  of 
the  forge-hammer,  the  hum  of  the  factory,  the  rattle  of  rolls 
and  machinery,  the  clangor  of  the  boiler  yards,  the  shriek 
of  locomotive,  ferry  and  steamer,  and  that  blended  and 
confused  din  arising  from  multiplied  branches  of  industry. 
A  uight  scene  from  this  point,  with  the  huge  fires  from 
mill,  oven  and  furnace  glaring  against  the  sky,  is  simply  a 
glance  into  Pandemonium.  It  is,  as  some  writer  more 
forcibly  than  elegantly  expresses  it,  "  hell  with  the  lid  ofi!" 

A  thriving,  and  rapidly-growing  city  of  nearly  two  hun 
dred  thousand  souls  lies  before  you.  A  hundred  spires 
and  towers  announce  that  God,  as  well  as  Mammon,  ii 


PITTSBURGH   AS    IT    IS,   AND    WAS.  11 

worshipped  here.  Academies,  hospitals,  seminaries,  and 
public  buildings  are  dimly  seen  in  all  directions,  denoting 
a  people  of  heart,  of  conscience,  and  of  culture,  and  yet  all 
this  is  but  the  growth  of  a  single  century.  If,  as  Tennyson 
writes,  "  Better  fifty  years  of  Europe  than  a  cycle  of  Ca 
thay,"  of  how  much  more  value  is  one  year  in  America, 
where  life  is  so  intensified,  and  where  growth  is  such  a  very 
marvel,  that  the  wild  dream  of  yesterday  becomes  the  sober 
reality  of  to-day — where  the  Atlantic  telegraph  of  one  year 
is  succeeded  by  the  Pacific  Railroad  of  the  next  ?  The  ivy- 
mantled  abbeys  and  castles  of  England  date  from  William 
the  Conqueror,  over  eight  hundred  years  ago.  One  hun 
dred  years  here  suffice  to  give  the  stamp  of  antiquity,  and 
the  magic  growth  of  Chicago  and  St.  Louis  may  soon  be 
paralleled  by  that  of  Salt  Lake,  or  San  Francisco.  (See 
Appendix  A.) 

On  the  summit  of  Coal  Hill,  from  which  you  are  sup 
posed  to  have  been  gazing,  and  directly  opposite  the 
"Point"  of  Pittsburgh,  which  marks  the  junction  of  the 
Allegheny  and  the  Monongahela,  and  on  which  stood,  in 
olden  times,  the  formidable  and  far-famed  French  Fort 
Duquesne,  there  lies  a  jutting  slope,  overlooking  a  sheer 
precipice  of  two  hundred  feet,  and  flanked  on  one  side  by 
a  deep  ravine,  worn  from  the  rock  by  some  old  water 
course  which  brawled  its  way  to  the  river  below. 

On  the  5th  of  July,  1755 — for  it  is  to  such  a  distant 
past  that  we  have  the  temerity  to  invite  our  reader's  at 
tention — this  prominent  brow  appeared  but  slightly  differ 
ent  from  what  it  does  now.  Time  works  but  little  change 
on  the  bolder  forms  of  nature.  It  may  scar,  and  seam,  and 
corrode,  but  it  requires  the  earthquake's  power  to  overthrow 
or  destroy.  The  grassy  slope  was  of  a  more  vivid  green 
than  now,  and  enamelled  with  bright  wild  flowers.  All 
around,  far  as  eye  could  reach,  was  one  boundless  sea  of 
verdure,  having,  too,  the  freshness  and  high  color  of  early 


12  OLD   FORT   DUQUESXE. 

summer.  A  huge  oak,  which  had  for  centuries  wrestled 
with  the  storms  coming  up  from  the  gulf,  and  had  stood 
on  the  very  verge  of  the  height,  had,  years  before,  been 
stricken  and  riven  with  the  bolt,  and — wrested  from  ita 
deep  anchorage — lay  prone  with  its  mighty  trunk  athwar. 
the  very  brow  of  the  hill,  its  shaggy  bark  and  decaying 
wood  nourishing  a  most  profuse  growth  of  mosses. 

At  a  little  distance  back,  and  as  if  begrudging  even  thia 
narrow  mead  to  the  grass  and  flowers,  stood  the  virgin 
forest,  with  its  serried  ranks  of  oak  and  elm,  and  clean- 
leaved  maples,  and  tulip-trees.  Underneath  the  leafy 
canopy  was  the  usual  undergrowth  of  an  American  forest, 
while  the  damp  and  dewy  ground  was  covered  with  vines, 
ferns,  mosses,  and  other  forms  of  a  luxuriant  and  redund 
ant  vegetation. 

At  the  nearest  verge  of  this  wood,  beneath  a  low  dog 
wood,  and  just  at  the  gray  dawn  of  what  promised  to  be  a 
most  beautiful  day,  a  party  of  two  whites  and  an  Indian 
was  sitting  at  what  might  literally  be  called  a  break-fast, 
for  the  food  was  only  slices  of  jerked  venison,  and  army 
bread,  and  for  a  relish,  water  from  a  spring  hard  by. 
Guided  by  the  lights  from  Fort  Duquesne,  and  the  Indian 
camp  fires  around,  they  had  arrived  at  this  appointed  place 
late  the  night  before,  and  had  slept  where  they  were  eating, 
each  on  his  couch  of  last  year's  leaves.  They  needed  not 
to  court  "  tired  nature's  sweet  restorer,  balmy  sleep ; "  it 
came  to  them  unsought,  and  graciously,  amid  the  hootings 
of  the  owl,  the  howlings  of  the  wolf,  and  the  many  strange 
and  uncanny  night  voices  of  an  American  wilderness 
abounding  in  every  variety  of  life. 


CHAPTER  II 

WHO  COMPOSED  THE  SCOUTING  PARTY. 

I  stood  tip-toe  upon  a  lofty  hill, 

The  air  was  cooling,  and  so  very  still ; 

The  clouds  were  pure,  and  white  as  flocks  new  shorn 

And  fresh  from  the  clear  brook ;  sweetly  they  slept 

On  the  blue  fields  of  heaven.  .  .  . 

Of  all  the  shades  that  slanted  o'er  the  green, 

There  was  wide  wandering  for  the  greediest  eye, 

To  peer  about  upon  variety. 

Far  round  the  horizon's  crystal  air  to  skim, 

And  trace  the  dwindled  edges  of  its  brim; 

To  picture  out  the  quaint,  and  curious  bending 

Of  a  fresh  woodland  alley,  never  ending; 

Or,  by  the  bowery  clefts  and  leafy  shelves, 

Guess  where  the  jaunty  streams  refresh  themselves. — feats. 

Why,  what  a  mad-cap  hath  heaven  lent  us  here. — Xing  John, 

THE  oldest,  and  apparently  the  leader  of  the  party- 
mark  him  well,  reader,  for  he  was  a  most  notable  person 
in  those  days — was  still  in  the  very  prime  of  life,  compact 
of  frame,  and  resolute  of  manner.  His  blue  eye  was  with 
out  guile  ;  the  lines  of  his  countenance  all  spoke  frankness 
and  sincerity,  while  the  cut  of  the  mouth  and  the  square 
ness  of  the  lower  face  gave  token  of  firmness  and  courage. 
There  was  an  engaging  frankness,  and  an  unstudied  repose 
and  simplicity  of  manner  about  him,  which  invited  confi 
dence. 

And  such  a  man  emphatically  he  was,  as  his  solitary  and 
daring  life  had  amply  proven.  No  bewigged  and  belaced 
trifler  of  th«  city,  he,  but  a  true  child  of  the  forest ;  familial 

13 


14  OLD    FORT    DUQUE8XE. 

with  nature  in  all  her  varied  moods;  more  thoroughly 
versed  in  wood-craft  than  any  man  in  the  colonies :  the 
companion  and  friend  of  the  wily  and  untutored  savage ; 
shrewd,  patient,  tireless,  knowing  no  fear,  he  was  a  true 
and  loyal  nature's  nobleman,  every  inch  of  him,  and  every 
fibre  of  his  body. 

liaised  on  the  Yadkin,  North  Carolina,  he  was  a  sur 
veyor  by  profession,  and  a  restless  rover  by  nature.  With 
the  same  mysterious  spirit  stirring  within  him  which  after 
ward  drove  Boone,  Poe,  Kenton,  the  Wetzels  and  other 
famous  pioneers,  to  dwell  in  solitudes,  and  wage  constant 
battle  with  whatever  foes  might  offer,  he  had  passed  nearly 
his  whole  life  in  the  woods  ;  had  made  repeated  and  solitary 
excursions  to  the  then  unknown  West ;  had  often  penetrated 
vast  distances  and  brought  back  strange  reports ;  had  been 
sent  on  important  missions  to  Western  tribes ;  had  sought 
out  hostile  chiefs  of  fame  and  prowess,  and  disarmed  them 
by  his  nerve  and  coolness;  had  accompanied  Washington, 
two  years  before  our  story  opens,  on  his  celebrated  mission 
to  the  French  Commandant  at  French  Creek,  and  was  now 
in  the  employ  of  General  Braddock — who,  with  his  slowly 
advancing  army,  was  but  a  few  days  distant — as  chief 
guide. 

Truly  a  man  of  nerve,  and  of  mark.  What  stories  could 
he  not  tell  of  "  moving  accidents  by  flood  and  field,  and 
hair-breadth  'scapes;"  of  solitary  and  perilous  wanderings 
amid  unbroken  forests,  where  foot  of  white  man  had  never 
yet  trod ;  of  lonely  vigils  by  night,  and  weary  tramps  by 
day,  threading  vast  solitudes  on  devious  Indian  trails,  and 
couching  himself  amid  wild  beasts  and  savages.  And  now 
there  he  sat,  clad  in  the  free  and  simple  garb  of  a  scout, 
with  moccasined  feet, beaded  leggings  of  deerskin,  a  fringed 
hunting  shirt,  a  keeu-bladed  hunter's  knife  in  his  belt,  a 
powder  horn  at  his  side,  and  his  bullet-  and  greased  patch- 
pouches  depending  from  his  waist;,  the  fresh  and  balmy 


WHO   COMPOSED  THE  SCOUTING   PARTY.  Ifi 

air  of  morning  playing  about  his  bared  brow.  He  seemed 
of  the  woods  a  part,  as  much  as  ever  did  Robin  Hood  in 
Sherwood  forest.  His  very  clothes  had,  as  it  were,  an  odor 
of  the  woods — a  perfume  of  earthy  mould,  of  fragrant 
leaves,  and  of  trodden  flowers.  Christopher  Gist,  the  man 
whom  we  have  thus  briefly  essayed  to  portray,  and  on  whose 
life  and  exploits  we  would  gladly  dwell,  could  be  no  other 
than  he  was  and  live  out  his  nature.  (See  Appendix  B.) 

Near  him,  with  figure  motionless  as  a  statue,  and  jet 
with  ear  alert  and  attentive,  and  with  gleaming  eye  ever 
searching  out  the  intricacies  of  the  forest,  sat  the  young 
Indian  chieftain ;  his  dress — except  the  breech-clout  and 
blue  stroud — all  from  the  woods,  the  spoil  of  beast  and 
bird,  and  light  as  Indians  in  summer  generally  wear;  his 
Bcalp-lock  braided  with  eagle  feathers ;  his  keen  tomahawk 
flashing  from  the  shell-rimmed  girdle,  and  his  rifle  lying 
within  easy  grasp.  His  face  was  freshly  and  hideously 
decorated  with  vermilion,  for  he  was  on  the  war-path. 
This  was  Fairfax,  a  Delaware — son  of  the  celebrated  Queen 
Alaquippa — who  had  fought  with  Washington  the  year 
before,  at  the  attack  on  Jumonville,  and  at  the  miserable 
battle  at  Fort  Necessity.  Fairfax  was  the  name  lately 
given  him  by  Washington,  who  called  him  a  "Great 
Warrior." 

How  shall  we  describe  the  third  member  of  the  party  so 
briefly  as  to  individualize  him — his  whole  appearance  and 
equipment  so  utterly  out  of  keeping  with  the  backwoods? 
Imagine  to  yourself,  reader,  a  slight,  delicate,  and  rather 
laconic  specimen  of  humanity,  of  scarce  two-and-twenty 
years,  with  blue  eyes,  ruddy  English  face,  blond  hair,  cov 
ered  with  a  fashiontble  wig  of  the  day,  and  a  faint  suspi 
cion  of  a  moustache.  Now  see  this  delicate  little  duodecimo 
>f  a  man  in  a  fashionable  green  velvet  hunting  suit,  with 
knee-breeches  and  fine  Hessian  half-boots  ;  an  efflorescence 
of  ruffl  ^s  about  his  bosom,  and  of  ruffles  trimmed  with  lace 


16  OLD   FORT   DUQUE8NE. 

about  his  wrists,  and  you  have  my  young  Lord  Talbot,  the 
fast  son  of  a  gouty  English  blue-blood,  who  was  an  early 
friend  of  General  Edward  Braddock. 

But  this  by  no  means  fully  describes  our  young  eprig  of 
nobility;  a  most  lady-like  gentleman,  seemiffgly  mure 
fitted  to  grace  the  boudoir  of  a  Grosvenor-street  belle,  or 
an  ogling  lounge  at  Almack's  club,  than  the  rude  encoun 
ters  of  an  American  wilderness.  This  miniature  cock* 
Bpairow  of  a  man,  as  is  not  unusual  with  bodies  of  brief 
Btature  and  of  well-derived  English  blood,  was  as  full  of  fight 
and  pluck  as  a  king-bird,  and  as  full  of  prejudice  as  an 
egg  is  full  of  meat.  He  had  the  most  -overweening  confi 
dence  in  himself  and  everything  English  ;  despised  and  ridi 
culed  everything  and  everybody  colonial ;  would  take  no 
advice ;  swore  by  Ed.  Braddock ;  abominated  the  frog- 
eating  French,  and  was  so  saturated  with  the  pride  of  caste 
as  to  expose  him  to  constant  ridicule  from  the  provincial 
officers.  It  was  his  gaminess,  gayety,  and  never-failing 
good  nature  which  saved  him  from  disrespect.  Add  to  this, 
that  he  boxed  like  Molyneux,  was  a  perfect  master  of  fence, 
and  could  dance  like  a  Parisian  ballet  girl,  and  nearly  all 
has  been  said. 

This  young  lord,  too,  was  rather  blas$  in  the  world's  dis 
sipations  ;  had  taken  his  hunts  in  India  and  Africa;  had 
twice  made  the  continental  tour ;  had  been  out  one  season 
• — as  an  amateur — with  the  Duke  of  Cumberland ;  had 
been  well  acquainted  with  Braddock,  and  the  fast  set  of 
officers  with  whom  that  brave  but  unfortunate  general  had 
associated  in  London,  and  had  now  come  over,  with  Ad 
miral  Keppel,  in  search  of  American  adventure.  He  had 
joined  Braddock's  army  as  a  pet  lord  ;  had  messed  with 
gay  young  officers ;  danced  war  dances  with  the  Indians, 
and  made  love  to  their  squaws  and  maidens — so  long  as 
they  were  permitted  to  follow  the  camp — and  now,  hearing 
of  this,  the  only  scout  that  Braddock  had,  in  his  pride  ind 


WHO   COMPOSED  THE  SCOUTING  PARTY.  17 

self-confidence,  ever  sent  out — and  that,  too,  at  the  pressing 
instance  of  Washington — had  so  importuned  and  worried 
the  general  that,  after  recounting  the  risks,  and  urging 
him  in  vain  to  throw  aside  so  unsuitable  a  garb,  he  was 
fain  to  let  him  go. 

*  S'death,  'tis  the  last  scout  his  father's  son  will  ever  want 
to  make,"  said  Braddock,  as  Talbot  moved  airily  and 
jauntily  out  of  camp  into  a  forest  trail,  flourishing  a  light 
rapier  for  a  cane,  and  with  a  short  English  rifle  on  his 
shoulder.  "  'Twill  be  a  miracle  if  he  ever  come  back  with 
that  elegant  head  of  hair,  or  at  least  without  having  his 
brilliant  plumage  ruffled  and  besmirched  ;  but  let  him  go ; 
young  bloods  flout  at  gray  heads." 

The  frugal  meal  over,  the  party — Gist  at  some  distanc3 
in  front — began  cautiously  to  emerge  from  the  forest,  when 
*  crackling,  rushing  noise  at  a  little  distance  startled  them, 
/he  Indian  glided  instinctively  behind  the  first  tree,  his 
rifle  at  point,  and  his  restless  eye  glancing  in  the  direction 
of  the  sound,  when  a  shaggy,  awkward  animal  was  dis 
covered  walking  hurriedly  away  from  the  little  run.  The 
red  man  dropped  his  rifle  and  resumed  his  course ;  not  so 
Talbot.  Soon  as  he  caught  sight  of  Bruin,  and  with  a 
"  By  Jove,  if  that  be  not  a  bear,  people  have  lied  to  me," 
was  just  on  point  of  pulling  trigger,  when  Fairfax  rudely 
seized  his  arm,  wrested  the  gun  from  his  grasp,  and  angrily 
hissed  out  in  pretty  good  English  : 

"  What  for  you  shoot?  You  very  young  and  no  war 
rior.  You  mad  ?  Delaware  and  Shawnee  '  braves '  all 
around — thick  as  leaves.  You  no  want  your  much  scalp  ? 
See  here !  mine  little  and  long.  When  time  come,  here  it  be 
for  my  foe,  but  not  till  then.  We  are  on  the  war  trail  now 
— no  hunting  jays.  Be  wise  and  still  as  the  rattlesnake 
till  strike  time  comes." 

"  Look-a-here,  Mr.  Indian,  you  red  cocks  o'  the  wood 
have  a  deuced  familiar  way  with  a  cove  that  I  don't  like, 
2 


18  OLD   FORT   DT7QUESNE. 

DC  n't  know  that  we've  ever  been  regularly  introduced,  and 
yet  you  lay  rude  hands  on  me  as  if  I  were  your  squaw. 
Hands  off  next  time,  and  give  back  my  tool.  I  don't  know 
but  you're  right  this  time,  but  as  for  the  tawny  devils  you 
seem  to  fear  so,  I  can't  tell  where  they're  skulking.  I'va 
not  seen  a  tanned  hide  but  yours  since  I  left  camp." 

'•'  Come,  red  man  show  you.  Stoop  down  like  him,  and 
creep  up  behind  log  yonder,  where  Captain  Gist  lies.  Ha 
no  girl.  He  Indian  '  brave ; '  no  shoot  gun  at  bear  right 
above  big  Indian  camp." 

With  a  feeling  of  no  little  disgust,  the  more  so  because 
he  knew  himself  in  the  wrong,  Talbot  crept  behind  the 
Indian  towards  the  big  oak  already  mentioned. 

"  Now,  Lord  Talbot,"  spoke  Gist,  in  low  tones,  "  if  you 
wish  a  glorious  sight  which  all  America — and  I  dare  say 
England,  too,  for  that  matter — cannot  match,  come  to  this 
point  and  look  down." 

"  There  you  are  again,  Captain,  with  your  American 
scenery,  and  woods,  and  canoes.  I  haven't  much  reason 
to  be  in  love  with  any  of  them.  The  canoe  we  yesterday 
came  down  the  yog-yoch-wauch — what  the  deuce  do  you 
call  that  cascady  stream  with  the  jaw-breaking  name, 
Cap?" 

"  Youghiogheny." 

"  Yokoginny.  It  e'enamost  tears  my  throat  to  say  it 
Well,  our  trifling  boat  rocked  worse  than  a  toy  punt  on 
the  Cam.  'Twas  well  I  had  my  hair  fixed  even  all  'round 
or  I'd  have  upset.  Why,  whenever  I'd  pull  my  watch  out, 
the  old  shell  would  dip,  so  I  near-a-most  lost  my  wig — a 
head  of  hair,  too,  that  cost  me  five  pounds  twelve  and  six 
in  the  Strand.  And  as  for  your  woods — bah !  Just  look 
at  my  clothes  without  laughing  outright,  will  you  ?  What 
with  being  pricked  and  jagged  with  briars ;  my  best  suit 
torn  and  scuffed  with  thorns ;  my  eyes  ever  banged  with 
wet  boughs,  and  my  feet  snared,  like  a  hare,  in  pea-vines, 


WHO  COMPOSED  THE  SCOUTING   PARTY.  19 

and   all  sorts  of  entanglements,  I  look  like  a  Newgate 
thief,  and,  gad,  I  feel  much  like  one,  too. 

"  Don't  know  when  I'm  well  off,  eh  ?  Jupiter  Ammon, 
Cap,  if  you'd  ever  been  in  an  English  park,  you  would 
forever  forswear  American  woods — the  trees  a  thousand 
years  old,  majestic  aud  wide-spreading;  not  a  bush,  or 
biiar,  or  sapling  to  be  seen,  but  all  green  sward,  the  hares 
and  pheasants  rising  at  every  step,  and  the  dappled  deer  in 
huge  herds,  the  stags  in  the  rutting  time  fighting  and  bel 
lowing  and  crashing  their  horns  together  till  you  could 
hear  them  a  mile.  No,  no,  Captain  ;  you  have  woods 
without  end  in  this  country — as  witness  my  dilapidated 
appearance — but  when  you  want  groves,  and  parks,  and 
gentlemen's  preserves,  you  must  go  to  '  merrie  England. 
As  for  your  views,  have  you  ever  stood  on  Skiddaw  and 
took  in  the  Cumberland  lakes  at  a  glance,  or  on  Ben  Lo 
mond,  with  its  lovely  lochs? — but,  by  the  Lord  Harry, Cap 
tain,  that  is  a  rather  fine  lookout,"  concluded  Talbot,  as  his 
head  lifted  over  the  log  and  his  eyes  took  in  one  by  one  the 
notable  features  of  the  scene  below. 

His  companions,  one  behind  the  log,  and  the  other  lean 
ing  behind  a  large  oak  which  stood  near,  wholly  inattentive 
to  his  boastings,  were  earnestly  gazing  abroad  over  the 
height.  Gist's  eye,  assisted  by  a  field  glass  which  he  car 
ried  with  him,  rested  long  on  the  fort  and  its  surroundings, 
which  lay  entirely  open  to  his  scrutinizing  and  experienced 
gaze. 


CHAPTER  IIL 

4   LOOKOUT  OVER  THE   FORT. 

Beneath  the  forest's  skirt  I  rest, 

Where  branching  pines  rise  dark  and  high 
Aud  hear  the  breezes  of  the  West 

Among  the  thread-like  foliage  sigh. 
And  lol  thy  glorious  realm  outspread, 

Yon  stretching  valleys  green  and  gay, 
And  yon  free  hill-tops,  o'er  whose  ln-ad 

The  loose  white  clouds  are  borne  away ; 
And  there  the  full  broad  rivers  run, 

And  many  a  font  wells  fresh  and  sweet, 
To  cool  thee  when  the  mid-day  sun 

lias  made  thee  faint  beneath  his  heat. — 

A  UEAVY  white  fog,  which  had  lain  close  over,  not 
alone  the  three  rivers,  but  all  the  flats  adjoining,  was 
rapidly  lifting  under  the  fervid  beams  of  a  glorious  sun, 
which  was  advancing  with  stately  steppings  on  his  tri 
umphal  march  through  the  sky.  A  perfect  hush,  almost 
painful  in  its  intensity,  was  over  all  nature.  The  hills  and 
elopes,  which  had  at  first  appeared  like  green  islands 
rising  from  a  white  sea,  gradually,  and  one  after  another, 
stDod  revealed  in  all  their  rich  and  varied  beauty. 

The  sun  seemed  to  shed  a  golden  glory  on  every  object, 
und  as  the  white  vapors  curled  and  rolled  lazily  away,  the 
warm  tints  and  living  colors  took  their  places,  and  the 
three  rivers  could  be  seen  in  all  their  pride  and  beauty, 
sweeping  onward  with  full  banks  between  living  walls  of 
luxuriant  verdure.  From  the  willows  which  dipped  theii 
30 


A  LOOKOUT  OVER  THE  FORT.  21 

pendant  boughs  in  the  stream,  and  rose  and  fell  to  the 
kissing  ripples,  away  up  to  the  giant  oaks  and  elms  on  the 
summits,  which  flaunted  their  huge  branches,  and  struck 
down  their  strong  roots,  bidding  defiance  to  centuries  of 
etorms,  all  was  a  rich  and  luxuriant  green,  but  a  green 
pied  and  mottled  with  hues  and  tints  as  varied  is  there 
were  species  of  trees  in  the  woods. 

The  spot,  however,  which  riveted  and  held  spell-bound, 
aa  it  were,  the  anxious  gaze  of  all  was,  of  course,  the  French 
Fort  Duquesne,  whose  strength  and  weakness  they  had 
come  there  to  spy  out — the  object  of  so  much  parade  and 
preparation,  and  to  capture  which,  an  tinny  of  drilled  and 
veteran  English  regulars  had  specially  crossed  the  ocean. 
There  it  lay,  snug  and  compact,  right  in  the  forks  of  the 
two  rivers — the  banks  of  which  were  there  high  and 
steep — with  its  ditch,  its  double  line  of  log  stockades,  its 
draw-bridge,  magazines,  bastions,  ramparts,  and  guns  too, 
all  plainly  revealed  to  view. 

It  had  long  been  a  cherished  opinion  of  Sir  John  St. 
Clair  that  it  would  be  a  waste  of  time  and  blood  to  attack 
this  fort  in  full  front  and  by  regular  approach.  It  would 
be  taking  the  enemy  just  where  he  was  strongest,  and 
where  he  invited  attack;  rather,  argued  the  blunt  old 
Quartermaster  General,  quietly  drag  guns  up  to  some 
dominating  height  and  demolish  it  with  hot  shot. 

This  was  the  reason,  as  well  as  to  be  able  to  look  right 
down  into  every  nook  and  cranny  of  the  fort,  that  the 
scout  had  been  divided,  one  party,  whose  acquaintance  we 
have  already  made,  to  proceed  to  the  hill-top  opposite  the 
place,  while  the  other  was  to  make  its  way  by  river  down 
close  to  the  fort ;  study  the  ground  around  and  in  front,  and 
ascertain,  if  allowed,  the  force  of  Indian  allies  gathered 
there  and  encamped  about  in  the  adjacent  woods. 

We  will  describe  the  fort  more  fully  hereafter.  Suffice 
it  now  to  say  that  Fort  Duquesue,  although  occupying  but 


22  OLD   FORT   DUQUESXE. 

little  space,  was  very  strongly  and  compactly  built,  quad 
rangular  in  shape,  with  bastions  and  strong  stockades  on 
the  sides  towards  the  country,  the  other  two  sides  having 
only  strong  stockades,  framed  of  heavy  logs  wattled  to 
gether  with  poles.  An  outer  line  of  log  stockades,  en 
trenchments  seven  feet  high — the  inner  line  being  twelve 
*eet  high — was  cast  up  all  around  the  fort,  againet 
which  earth  wa?  thrown  up.  The  area  inside,  as  clearly 
revealed  to  Gist,  was  closely  covered  with  buildings- 
barracks,  guard  house,  officers'  quarters,  etc.  All  the 
ground  about  the  fort  was  firm  and  dry,  and  cleared  for 
the  space  of  a  quarter  of  a  mile  around,  the  trees  c'lt  off 
close  to  the  earth  that  no  enemy  could  approach  under 
cover,  and  that  full  and  unobstructed  range  might  be 
given  for  the  artillery. 

Kitchen  gardens  had  been  laid  out  along  the  Allegheny 
river  outside  the  fort ;  corn  was  planted  about  in  consider 
able  quantity,  and  a  flour  mill  had  been  erected  near  byj 
BO  that  the  garrison  should  he,  in  a  manner,  independent 
of  French  Canada  for  supplies. 

Outside  the  outer  wall  stood  an  isolated  strong  house  for 
tools.  All  around  on  the  margin  of  the  woods  were  located 
the  bark  tents  and  smouldering  camp  fires  of  the  Indians, 
who  were  evidently  gathered  in  considerable  force  from  the 
Canadas  in  the  North  to  the  Illinois  in  the  West,  all  sum 
moned  by  Contrecceur,  late  Commandant,  to  repel  Brad- 
dock's  army,  now  almost  daily  expected.  Too  early  for 
much  stir  yet,  but  still  a  fresh  smoke  here  and  there,  within 
and  without  the  fort,  betokened  preparation  for  the  morn 
ing  meal.  (See  Appendix  C.) 

While  Gist,  in  the  line  of  his  duty,  was  busy  with  glass 
and  note  book,  jotting  down  every  single  object  of  import 
ance,  the  Indian  called  Talbot's  attention  to  a  large  white 
ewan,  which,  with  slow  beat  of  pinion,  and  an  occasional 
hoarse  cry,  was  lazily  working  its  way  up  the  Ohio,  untU 


A  LOOKOUT  OVER  THE  FORT.  23 

it  stood  almost  stationary  over  the  shallow  waters  covering 
A  bar  at  the  confluence  of  the  two  rivers. 

All  at  once,  and  so  near  as  to  startle  the  whole  party,  a 
loud  haugh-ha-ha!  haugh-ha-ha!  like  the  scream  of  a 
maniac,  was  emitted  from  a  huge  pine  which  stood  a  little 
below  them,  which  cry  was  answered  by  another  and  simi 
lar  one,  from  a  heavily-wooded  island  in  the  Allegheny, 
across  from  the  fort. 

The  swan  showed  evident  signs  of  terror  and  dismay ;  it 
dashed  forward,  wavered  in  its  flight,  sunk,  rose  again,  and 
then  smote  the  air  with  strong,  rapid  wing.  Too  late ;  the 
haugh-ha-ha  was  repeated,  and  a  huge  bald-headed  eagle 
darted  out  from  its  piny  concealment,  cleft  the  air  with  its 
mighty  pinion,  rose  to  a  great  height,  and  with  reversed  wing, 
swooped  down  like  a  bolt  on  its  prey,  struck  it  fiercely,  and 
with  admirable  dexterity,  pushed  the  dying  swan  in  a  slant 
ing  fall  on  to  the  island,  where  the  eagle  was  joined  by  its 
waiting  mate.  It  was  done  all  in  a  minute,  but  it  was  well 
and  cleanly  done. 

"  Je-hu,  reddy,"  exclaimed  the  excited  Talbot,  "  but  that 
•was  quick  work,  and  a  short  shrift !  'Tis  a  fat  breakfast 
for  them,  but  they've  fairly  earned  it,  I  must  say.  Well, 
master  Gist,  now  that  I  see  you  closing  your  note  book, 
you  wont  pretend  to  tell  me  that  that  miserable,  good-for- 
nothing  little  fort,  scarcely  bigger  than  a  lady's  kerchief, 
built  out  of  logs  and  brush,  and  surrounded  by  a  few  hun 
dred  skulking,  cowardly  savages,  is  the  stronghold  which 
has  so  long  bothered  and  defied  all  your  colonies,  and  which 
has  obliged  our  good  old  King  George  to  send  over  two  of 
his  best  regiments,  and  one  of  his  oldest  generals,  the  pet 
of  our  great  Duke  of  Cumberland  himself?" 

"  The  very  same,  my  lord,  the  ve-ry  same ;  and  I  greatly 
'ear  me,  that  unless  '  Cumberland's  pet '  makes  far  greater 
ipeed  than  he  has  yet  done,  and  if  he  continue  to  have  such 
«u  overweening  confidence  in  his  drillings  and  facings,  and 


24  OLD   FORT   DUQUESXB. 

BO  little  in  his  Indian  and  colonial  allies  that  ke  will  be 
some  time  beating  and  swearing  before  that  old  log  fort, 
ere  he  serves  de  Beaujeu  with  his  '  writ  of  ej  ectment.' 
Lord  bless  you,  laddie,  I  think  we  of  the  backwoods  ought 
to  know  something  of  Indians  and  Indian  ambushes  and  devil 
tries.  We  also  have  reason  to  know  with  what  admirable 
artifice  the  French  manage  their  swarthy  friends.  They 
study  well  how  to  please  an  Indian's  eye,  and  gratify  to 
the  full  his  natural  taste  for  gaud  and  trinkets. 

"  They  throw  about  their  gifts  with  no  grudging  hand,  I 
tell  ye ;  eat,  live,  sport,  and  even  marry  with  the  Indians  ; 
manage  them  as  Braddock's  drum-major  does  his  bugles ; 
can  pacify  or  enrage ;  feed  their  pride,  or  their  revenge. 
They  stuff  them  with  lies,  trap  them  with  snares,  hoodwink 
them  with  flatteries,  and  dress  them  in  fine  feathers.  Colo 
nel  Johnson,  of  New  York,  and  Conrade  Weiser  and 
George  Croghan,  of  our  colony,  are  about  the  only  ones 
who  understand  the  Indian  nature,  and  I  dare  swear,  that 
had  their  advice  been  taken,  there  wouldn't  have  been  a 
redskin  about  that  fort,  and  the  frog-eaters  would  have 
been  forced,  nilly-willy,  to  retire  to  Wenango,  or  float 
down  to  Orleans,  without  a  blow.  Look  at  those  encamp 
ments  now!  There's  Quaker  diplomacy  for  you!  Now 
let's  ask  our  quiet  Delaware  here,  as  true,  staunch  a  friend 
as  e'er  wore  English  stroud : 

"  Fairfax,  what  is  it  your  people  have  most  complained 
of  for  the  last  few  years  ?  " 

"  Why,"  fiercely  hissed  out  the  Indian,  "  rum — one,  two, 
three  times,  rum.  White  brother  drink  '  fire-water '  only 
a  little,  but  red  brother  drink  his  head  all  away.  lib 
grow  dead  like  this  log.  He  give  land,  give  skins,  give 
Bquaws,  and  papooses,  even,  for  more  whiskey.  All  our 
chiefs  ask  our  Fathers  at  Albany  and  Philadelphia,  to 
keep  traders  from  selling  rum ;  but  no  use,  no  use.  What 
we  get  for  our  lands?"  he  continued,  sneeringly,  sweeping 


SIR   WILLIAM  JOHNSON. 


A   LOOKOUT  OTER  THE   FORT.  25 

his  arm  toward  the  eastern  hills,  and  growing  more  earnest 
as  he  advanced.  "  Few  bead,  and  wampum,  little  paint, 
kettles,  combs,  match-coats,  looking-glass,  and  tinkle,  tinkle 
bells.  All  gone  in  one  moon. 

"Then  come  white  man,  build  wigwam,  cut  down  all  big 
trees ;  shoot  deer,  bear  and  buffalo,  and  say  to  poor  Indian, 
'You  good  for  nothing — lazy,  lounging  dogs  ;  not  wanted 
here ;  go  towards  the  setting  sun.'  Ten  years  ago,  great 
many  Indians  in  Juniata,  Conestoga,  Susquehanna ;  many 
as  these  trees ;  now  all,  all  moving  to  find  game — no  game, 
no  Indian.  Queen  Alaquippa  good  woman,  much  people. 
She  take  fire-water,  too,  and  behave  very  bad.  When  we 
no  want  to  leave,  our  masters,  the  big  chiefs  of  '  Six  Na 
tions,'  are  brought  to  Albany.  More  bead,  much  eat, 
much  drink  and  paint,  and  then  they  order  us  ofF;  say 
we're  women,  and  have  no  right  to  sell  lands.  English 
claim  all  lands  this  side  Allegheny,  and  the  French  all 
lands  on  other  side.  Now  where,  then,  do  the  Indian 
lands  lie?  tell  me  that!" 

"  That's  a  poser,  Fairfax,''  laughed  Gist, "  and  I'll  never 
tell  ye.  Too  much  ugly  truth  in  what  he  says,  Talbot ;  but 
we  musn't  be  crooning  over  this  now.  It's  about  the  time 
when  Captain  Jack  and  Scarooyaddy,  the  Kalf-King,  pro 
mised  to  meet  us  here.  I  hope  their  scout  turned  out  well. 
Nothing  short  of  a  scalping  frolic  will  mpke  the»  *»~\(vk 
their  plight." 


CAPTER  IV. 

CAPTAIN   GIST   RELATES  SOME   ADVENTURES. 

Here  from  dim  woods,  the  aged  past 

Speaks  solemnly,  and  I  behold 
The  boundless  future  in  the  vast 

And  lovely  rivers  seaward  rolled. — Bryant. 

The  broad,  the  bright,  the  glorious  west 

Is  spread  before  me  now, 
Where  the  gray  mists  of  morning  rest 

Beneath  yon  mountain  brow. 
Here  from  this  mountain  height,  I  see 
Thy  bright  waves  floating  to  the  sea, 

Thy  emerald  fields  outspread  ; 
And  feel  that  in  the  book  of  fame, 
Proudly  shall  thy  recorded  name 

In  later  days  be  read. — Laura  M,  Tkurston. 

ANOTHER  earnest  and  long-continued  outlook  followed, 
tdien  Gist,  as  if  musing  with  himself,  thus  spoke : 

"  Ah,  me,  how  well  I  know  the  grounds  hereabout. 
Look  up  the  Allegheny.  You  can  just  barely  see,  or  think 
you  see,  the  little  island  on  which  Major  Washington  and 
I  nearly  froze  to  death  one  night  last  year.  We  were 
tomiug  home  from  our  visit  to  French  Creek,  and  had  senl 
our  horses  before  us,  and  wishing  to  cross  the  Allegheny, 
which  was  bank-full  of  running  ice,  we  had  to  spend  a 
whole  day  with  a  hatchet  in  making  a  raft.  We  had 
scarcely  pushed  out,  when  Washington's  setting-pole  got 
caught  in  the  huge  cakes,  and  he  was  thrown  out  into  ten 
feet  water,  and  came  very  near  drowning. 

"  'Twas  with  the  greatest  difficulty  we  made  that  little 
86 


CAPTAIN   GIST   RELATES   SOME   ADVENTURES.          27 

island,  and  passed  there  the  most  wretched  night  we  ever 
spent — a  night  which  cost  me  many  frozen  toes  and  fingers. 
Just  look  at  my  poor  hands !" 

"  And  how,"  asked  Talbot,  "  did  you  get  out  of  the 
scrape  ? " 

"  Oh !  next  morning  the  narrow  part  of  the  river  was 
frozen  tight,  and  we  made  for  land,  and  reached  Queen 
Alaquippa's,  Fairfax's  mother.  Warm  as  it  is  here  now,  it 
makes  me  almost  shiver  to  think  about  it.  Only  a  day  or 
two  before,  I  caught  a  scoundrelly  Indian  guide  about  to 
pull  trigger  on  Washington,  and  had  it  not  been  for  the 
Major's  kind  heart,  I  would  have  brained  the  rascal  on  the 
spot,  but  Washington  let  him  off,  although  it  was  a  mis 
take,  it  was  a  mistake."  (See  Appendix  D.) 

"  Do  you  see  that  queer-shaped,  woody  hill  there,  rising 
out  of  the  plain  on  the  other  side  of  the  Allegheny,  look 
ing  for  all  the  world  like  a  hog's  back?  Well,  sir,  would 
you  believe  it  ?  I  actually  went  around  that  hill  once  and 
went  on  down  the  Ohio,  perfectly  ignorant  of  this  Mon- 
ongahela  at  our  feet,  although  I  ought  to  have  guessed  it 
by  the  increased  size  of  the  Ohio  when  I  came  out  upon  it 
a  couple  of  miles  down  there. 

"  You  see,  I  crossed  the  Allegheny  about  two  miles 
above  '  Shannopin's  town ' — that  straggling  Delaware  vil 
lage  which  you  can  just  manage  to  see,  if  your  eyes  are  as 
good  as  mine — a  short  mile  or  so  above  the  fort  on  the 
Allegheny.  That  trip  I  went  all  alone  as  far  as  the  Falls 
of  the  Ohio,  and  came  back  to  my  Carolina  home  only  to 
find  that  the  Catawbas,  or  Cherokees — I  never  exactly 
knew  which  of  the  thieving,  scalping  varmints  to  fasten  it 
on — had  burned  my  house,  destroyed  my  settlement,  and 
driven  my  family  up  into  Virginia. 

"  Ah,  younker,  this  roving,  unsettled  life  is  an  over- 
anxious  and  a  worritsome  one ;  but  it  has  its  charms,  lad  ; 
jes.  it  has  its  charms.  I  never  feel  happier,  or  freer  like 


28  OLD   FOKT   DUQUESNE. 

than  when,  with  trusty  rifle  on  shoulder  and  a  bit  of 
jerked  venison  in  my  pouch,  I  swing  off  into  some  narrow 
Indian  trail,  and  commence  peering  about  the  leaves  and 
twigs  for  Indian  signs.  'Pears  to  me  I  feel  sort  o'  stifled 
in  the  settlements — can't  draw  a  deep  breath.  Have  been 
often  in  Philadelphia,  and  laughed  consumedly  at  their 
queer  fashions  and  toggeries — the  young  bucks  in  their 
curled  wigs,  velvet  knee-breeches,  silk  stockings,  and  silver 
shoe  buckles." 

"  And  where's  all  the  game,  Captain,  that  they  tell  me 
infests  these  Western  wilds  ?  "  broke  in  Talbot.  "  'Cepting 
the  clumsy  bear  I  saw  a  while  since,  I  never  have  clapped 
eyes  on  any  of  your  real  game,  though  I've  hunted  wild 
boar  in  Austria,  and  had  tiger  sport  in  India.  I'd  like  i(t 
see  your  panther  and  buffalo." 

"  Well,  you  will,  younker,  if  Braddock  isn't  driven  back 
and  you  be  not  the  game  that's  hunted ;  in  the  which  cast 
you  will  have  enough  to  do  to  keep  your  own  pelt  in  place 
without  seeking  some  other  poor  creature's.  There's  plenty 
of  both  panther  and  buffalo  hereabouts,  but  far  more  across 
the  Allegheny.  All  the  Ohio  valley  is  but  a  hunting 
ground  for  the  Indians — very  few  large  towns  or  villages. 
'Tis  extror'nary  the  distances  these  pesky  redskins  come  to 
hunt,  or  fight,  or  pillage.  Why,  I've  met  in  these  woods 
outlying  parties  of  Twightwees,  Ottawas,  Chippewas  from 
the  far  lakes,  and  even  some  of  the  Caughnewaugas  from 
Canada,  or  the  'French  praying  Indians,'  as  they  are 
called. 

"  Up  towards  Lake  Erie,  and  the  Muskingum  river,  now 
where  there  are  large  grass  plains,  and  savannahs,  the  buf 
falo  go  in  great  droves.  No  man  can  call  Chris  Gist  a 
boaster,  and  it  might  appear  like  that,  to  tell  of  adventures 
and  narrow  escapes  in  those  dense  woods  with  cats,  bears, 
and  'painters.'  The  hunting  grounds  hereabouts  are 
famous,  I  tell  you." 


CAPTAIN   GiST   RELATES   SOME  ADVENTURES.          29 

"  Why,  Cap,"  eagerly  put  in  Talbot,  "  it  'spirits  me  to 
hear  you  talk;  but  what  are  you  chuckling  at,  man?" 

"  Well,"  answered  Gist,  "  it's  easy  to  laugh  right  now 
and  here,  but  the  only  time  I  had  to  run  from  one  of  the 
varmints  happened  just  over  in  those  very  forks,  before  the 
dense  timber  was  cleared  off,  and  the  fort  built.  'Twas  in 
63,  wher  out  with  Major  Washington  on  his  way  to  We- 
nango.  We  had  gone  down  two  miles  from  here  to  visit 
»»ld  Shingiss,  king  of  the  Delawares,  as  brave  and  cruel  a 
Red  as  ever  twigged  hair  or  cast  a  tomahawk.  Shingiss 
and  Tannacharison, — the  last  Half-King  of  the  Iroquois 
before  Scarooyaddy — would  not  let  him  go  on  his  journey 
until  they  had  had  a  grand  pow-wow  in  the  Council  House  at 
Logstown,  and  so  the  Major  sent  me  up  in  a  canoe  to  ex 
amine  these  forks  closer,  as  he  thought  it  a  good  place  for  a 
fort. 

"  I  landed  just  about  dark,  and  lit  my  fire  under  a  huge 
buttonwood,  and  was  quietly  basting  a  turkey  I  had  shot, 
when  I  hears  a  queer  cry,  much  like  that  of  a  baby.  Well, 
now,  every  strange  noise  when  one's  alone  in  a  wilderness, 
is  suspicious.  I  pricked  up  my  ears,  and  listened,  and 
listened,  and  again  the  same  weak,  plaintive  cry.  Thinks  I 
that's  queer  ;  must  be  distress  there.  It's  an  owl,  or  'possum, 
or  mayhap,  a  m us'- rat.  After  awhile  I  hears  it  again,  coming 
a  little  from  beyond  the  fire-light.  I  tell  you  I  grew  quite 
nervous,  and  all  over  queer  like.  Soon  as  a  fellow  knows  hia 
danger  he  can  front  it  like  a  man,  but  when  he  don't,  he's 
more  like  a  girl — any  new  sound  rasps  his  nerves,  and 
makes  his  heart  go  dumpety-dump,  thumpety-thump ;  but 
suspense  was  awful,  so  I  steps  along,  until  I  came  almost 
to  the  forest  edge  yonder,  and  after  poking  round  awhile 
and  seeing  nothing,  I  waited  for  the  cry  again. 

"  Soon  it  came,  and  almost  under  my  very  nose ;  and 
there,  under  yonder  sycamore,  I  found  a  lump  of  something 
<wft,  and  wet,  and  whining  like.  It  crept  up  towards  m« 


30  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 

With  its  most  pitiful  story,  and,  scarce  knowing  what  H 
was,  I  picked  it  up  and  carried  it  towards  the  fire.  It  had 
probably  missed  its  leap,  and  fell  from  the  tree  into  the 
water,  as  it  appeared  all  cold  and  numb-like,  for  it  was  in 
a  raw  November.  It  cuddled  up  and  nestled  in  my  bosom 
j  ist  like  a  kitten,  \vhich  it  nearly  resembled,  only  its  head 
was  much  bigger,  and  more  wild  and  savage-like. 

"  I  took  pity  on  the  damp  little  cuss  with  such  a  human 
cry;  stripped  off  my  match-coat ;  laid  it,  with  the  little 
beasty  on  top,  near  the  fire,  and  commenced  my  turkey. 
Had  scarce  time  to  choose  between  wing  or  drumstick, 
when  I  heerd  a  rustle  and  a  crackling  noise  right  behind 
me,  and  on  turning  my  face  that-a-way,  saw  the  glaring 
eyes  and  savage  head  of  a  she  'painter.' 

"  Lordy,  but  she  was  mad  !  Her  eyes  looked  like  glow 
ing  coals ;  her  teeth  like  a  timber  saw,  and  her  tail  wag 
lashed  and  jerked  about  with  a  quick,  quivery,  tremulous 
motion.  I  felt  kind  of  numbed — couldn't  budge  a  peg  to 
save  my  life.  She  didn't  wait  long  on  ceremony,  I  tell  ye 
for  true,  but  without  saying  '  by  your  leave,  sir,'  she  was 
on  me  in  a  moment,  with  a  roar  and  a  spring,  knocking  me 
down,  and  giving  me  an  ugly  wipe  of  her  paw  as  she  pas 
sed  ;  here's  the  scar  of  it  yet,  right  above  the  temple.  But, 
Lordy  bless  you,  lad,  'twasn't  me  she  wanted.  She  scat 
tered  the  fire  right  and  left,  and  made  for  her  cub,  which 
she  turned  over  and  over,  licking  it  and  crooning  over  it 
in  a  loving,  motherly  sort  of  a  way." 

"  By  jove,  Cap,"  interrupted  the  excited  young  lord, 
"  you  don't  mean  to  say  ? — and — and  what  did  you  do  then  ?  " 

"  Me?  Oh,  jiminy,  what  could  I  do  ?  I  didn't  wait  fo.' 
any  second  hint,  I  tell  you.  My  gun  was  ten  feet  off, 
and  any  move  for  it  would  have  been  death  ;  so  bidding 
her  pouting  ladyship  a  hurried  but  affectionate  good-b}e,  I 
squirmed  over  to  the  bank  edge,  and  rolled  over  down  tc 
the  beach,  where  my  canoe  was  fastened,  gave  it  a  shove, 


CAPTAIN   GIST   RELATES   SOME    ADVENTURES.          31 

and  was  out  in  the  stream.  'Twaa  some  little  spell  before 
I  recovered,  but  on  standing  up,  would  you  believe  it  ?  I 
saw  her  catch  her  cub  by  the  slack  of  the  neck,  as  you 
would  a  terrier  dog,  and  make  off  with  it  into  the  bush. 

"  Am  ashamed  to  confess,  I  was  so  flustered  and  streaked 
like  by  this  narrow  escape,  I  left  my  turkey,  and  without 
my  gun,  made  straight  back  for  Shiugiss'  lodge.  But  hark ! 
what's  that?  Sounds  mighty  like  Scarooyaddy's  barker. 
I  can  tell  its  sharp,  spiteful  crack  'mid  a  thousand.  Can't 
believe  the  wary  chief  would  fire  off  his  piece  right  in  an 
enemy's  camp,  'less  he  was  sore  beset.' 


CHAPTER  V. 

AN   EXCITING  CHASE  AND   ESCAPE. 

Methought  he  bore  him  in  the  thickest  troop, 
As  doth  a  lion  in  a  herd  of  neat ; 
Or  as  a  bear,  encompass'd  round  with  dogs ; 
Who  having  pinched  a  few,  and  made  them  cry, 
The  rest  stand  all  aloof,  and  bark  at  him. 

Shaktpean. 

At  once  there  rose  so  wild  a  yell, 

As  all  the  fiends  from  heaven  that  fell, 

Had  pealed  the  banner-cry  of  hell ; 

For  life !  for  life  I  their  flight  they  ply— 

And  shriek,  and  shout,  and  battle-cry 

Are  maddening  in  the  rear. — Lady  of  the  Lake. 

ALL  now  breathlessly  turned  eyes  in  the  direction  of  the 
sound,  when  soon  the  whole  scene  changed  into  one  of  in 
tense  action  and  excitement. 

First  appeared  on  the  bluff,  at  some  distance  above  the 
fort,  a  gaunt  and  stalwart  figure,  which  Gist's  party  im 
mediately  recognized  as  that  of  Captain  Jack,  the  far- 
famed  leader  of  the  Juniata  Free  Rangers,  known  as  the 
most  rancorous  Indian  hater,  and  the  most  desperate  and 
relentless  Indian  fighter  in  all  the  colonies. 

He  paused  but  one  moment  to  take  in  the  situation,  and 
then  hurriedly  leaping  down  on  the  beach,  hastily  made 
for  about  twenty  birch  and  pine  canoes  which  were  crowded 
together,  heads  on  the  shingle.  These,  after  first  securing 
all  the  paddles,  he,  one  by  one,  with  a  single  powerful 
32 


AN   EXCITING  CHASE  AND   ESCAPE.  83 

push,  sent  darting  out  into  the  current,  save  one  long  and 
shapely  birch,  which  was  retained. 

At  one  and  the  same  moment  almost,  was  heard  the 
booming  sound  of  a  cannon  from  the  fort,  and  the  noise  of 
a  desperate  scuffle  and  angry  exclamations  from  the  bank, 
when  Scarooyaddy  leaped  over  and  down,  closely  followed 
by  a  powerful  young  Ottawa  chief.  They  clinched  at 
ouce,  but  time  was  too  vitally  precious  for  "  hands  off"  in 
this  conflict.  Jack  crunched  down  his  rifle-butt  on  the 
young  chief's  head,  which  the  Half-King  rapidly  followed 
up  by  sinking  his  tomahawk  in,fc  his  brain,  and,  with 
scalp  lock  in  one  hand,  was  prooe  jng  to  cut  the  usual 
horrid  circle,  when  thus  Jack,  angrily : 

"  Art  mad,  chief? — stay  not  for  the  scalp,  but  jump  into 
the  canoe,  quick !  Ye've  done  enough  mischief  already, 
and  we'll  have  the  whole  howling  pack  of  whites  and  reda 
upon  us  in  a  twinkle.  I've  hunted,  and  trailed,  and  fought 
with  ye  for  a  ten  year,  but  never  did  I  think  so  great  and 
old  a  chief  could  do  so  fool  a  thing.  'Twould  disgrace  a 
boy.  Not  one  word,  but  shove  off,  and  paddle  for  your 
life.  'Twill  be  a  miracle  if  we  escape  with  whole  scalps  to 
our  heads.  Heavens,  see  how  they  crowd  us !  Bend  to 
your  paddles,  chief!  Here's  no  child's  play." 

It  was  even  so.  They  were  now  fairly  fifty  yards  from 
shore,  making  rapidly  acroas  the  stream,  under  the  most 
superhuman  exertions.  Indians  by  scores  soon  appcured 
upon  the  bank,  leaping,  running  to  and  fro,  and  crowding 
over  upon  the  beach,  while  a  yell  of  baffled  rage,  and  a  cry 
for  revenge  arose  from  the  whole  crowd  so  soon  as  they  saw 
the  dead  body  of  their  chief  and  all  their  canoes  floating 
far  down  the  stream. 

Some   hurled   stones,   others    their    tomahawks,   while 

others  still,  shot  their  arrows  or  discharged  their  rifles.   At 

the  same  time  the  ball  from  a  cannon  whizzed  past  and 

ricochet  ted  on  the  \vater  beyond,  but  the  pursued  looked 

3 


84  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 

neither  to  right  nor  left,  but  desperately  bent  to  their  task, 
plying  their  paddles  in  short,  strong,  nervous  strokes  till 
they  almost  snapped  to  the  strain. 

This  terrible  work  soon  told  in  favor  of  the  fugitives, 
and  although  one  arm  of  our  Indian  was  seen  for  a  mo 
ment  to  suddenly  relax  its  grasp  of  the  paddle — a  fact 
which  was  announced  with  a  loud  yell  from  those  on  shore 
— the  canoe  still  dashed  forward.  They  were  no  novices 
who  impelled  it. 

At  this  moment  three  canoes  from  the  Allegheny,  hav 
ing  two  Indians  each,  shot  around  the  "  point,"  and  the  bat- 
teaux  and  perogues  gathered  there,  far  out  in  the  stream, 
while  two  others  came  unexpectedly  out  from  the  opposite 
bank,  right  in  the  course  of  Jack's,  making  directly  for  it. 
In  the  meantime,  Beaujeu,  a  leader  of  coolness  and  judg 
ment,  had  come  out  of  the  fort,  and  gave  direction  and 
effectiveness  to  the  Indian  movements  on  shore.  Some 
were  sent  after  the  floating  canoes ;  others  were  dispatched 
up  the  Monongahela,  to  cross  at  different  points. 

The  whole  scene  now  became  thrilling  in  the  extreme. 
The  ramparts  of  the  fort  were  crowded  with  soldiers  and 
cadets ;  gun  after  gun  was  let  off,  waking  the  echoes  of  the 
hills  till  the  whole  air  was  full  of  sound.  The  throi.gs  of 
maddened  Indians  on  shore  could  scarcely  contain  them 
selves  for  rage  and  excitement.  They  leaped,  yelled,  and 
rolled  upon  the  ground  and  tore  up  the  earth. 

The  situation  was,  to  the  last  degree,  full  of  peril ;  and 
Jack  and  the  Half-King  took  it  all  in  a*,  a  glance,  but  with 
out  losing  a  stroke,  or  uttering  a  worl:  only  thi«  from 
Jack : 

"Chief,  as  you  have  but  one  arm,  heep  your  rifle  it 
hand :  take  no  notice  of  the  rascals  in  front.  Let  them 
come  close ;  try  and  push  my  rifle,  with  your  foot,  a  litt!e 
towards  me,  and  watch  when  I  drop  my  poodle  ;  then  we'H 
seize  our  rifles  and  shoot,  you  at  the  fronf  Indian  to  tb« 


AN    EXCITING    CHASE   AND   ESCAPE.  35 

right,  and  I  at  the  one  on  the  left.  We're  in  tne  tightest 
strait  we  ever  were  yet,  and  we've  seen  some  desperate 
times  together.  So-  -now.  I  wont  reproach  you  more,  for 
'tis  your  only  folly.  God  alone  knows  how  'twill  end.  If 
we  can  manage  to  tviug  the  two  in  front,  we  needn't  f<ar 
those  laggards  in  the  rear.  You  used  to  be  famous  at 
throwing  the  tomahawk.  You  have  still  your  right  hand, 
If  you  can  make  it  tell,  now,  if  ever's  the  time." 

The  mortified  chief  still  kept  silence,  but  showed  that  ho 
understood ;  and  as  the  two  canoes  in  front  neared  them, 
he  warily  watched  them,  as  well  as  Jack. 

"Now!  now!  chief,"  hissed  out  Jack,  "let's  give  them 
of  our  very  best." 

All  at  once,  both  dropped  their  paddles  and  seized  their 
trusty  rifles,  and  two  reports  rang  out  simultaneously  ou 
the  air.  It  was  neatly  and  dexterously  done.  The  Indian 
Jack  aimed  at  was  mortally  wounded.  His  paddle  dropped 
from  his  nerveless  hand  ;  he  wavered,  sank,  rose  again, 
writhed,  clutched  the  air,  and  then  fell  heavily  over  the 
thwart  of  his  canoe,  upsetting  it,  as  well  as  his  companion, 
who  dived  under  and  clung  to  the  opposite  side. 

The  Half-King's  shot  was  not  so  fortunate ;  it  only  struck 
the  arm  of  the  foremost  Indian,  knocking  his  paddle  high 
into  the  air :  but  no  sooner  was  the  bullet  fleshed,  than  it 
was  followed  by  the  unerring  tomahawk,  which  finished 
the  work.  Striking  on  the  temple  with  full  force,  and  with 
the  butt  end,  he  was  felled  like  an  ox,  and  sank  down  with 
a  thud  into  the  bottom  of  the  canoe,  which  stopped  in  its 
course,  and  fell  off. 

As  soon  as  the  effect  of  these  shots  were  seen,  Scaroo- 
yaddy  raised  himself  to  his  full  height  in  the  boat,  turned 
towards  the  fort,  and  gave  forth  a  most  terrific  "  scalp  hal 
loo  " — a  series  of  shrill,  rapid,  unearthly  shrieks,  like  the 
wildest  laughs  of  a  madman,  which  were  as  clear  and  dis 
tinct  as  the  uo^es  of  a  clarion,  and  which  reverberated  from 


OLD   FORT   DUQUE8KE. 

hill  to  hill,  till  they  gradually  died  away  far  down  tho 
Ohio.  It  is  difficult  to  describe  the  prodigious  effect  which 
those  fierce  yells  of  contempt  and  defiance  wrought  on  the 
shore  crowds,  who,  while  the  three  boats  neared  each  other, 
had  been  comparatively  still  with  anxiety  and  expectance. 

Hi  is  stir  was  increased,  if  possible,  by  the  sight  of  Lord 
Talbot  on  the  height,  who,  in  the  excitement  of  the  mo- 
njcnt,  and  wishing  to  see  as  much  of  the  combat  as  possible, 
had  leaped  nimbly  upon  the  log,  and  stood  clearly  revealed 
against  the  sky.  He  was  seen  by  a  score,  and  although 
immediately  and  impatiently  pulled  down  by  Gist  and 
Fairfax,  it  was  too  late,  the  mischief  had  been  done. 

The  crowds  on  the  shore  worked  like  a  hill  of  ants.  The 
fort  guns  still  continued  to  fire,  their  booming  echoes  chas 
ing  each  other  along  the  river  hills  with  thunderous  rever 
beration,  while  in  the  intervals  the  air  was  filled  with 
deafening  whoops,  shrieks  and  yells.  What  a  startling 
contrast  to  the  brooding  calm  and  hush  of  a  short  half 
hour  before  !  Some  of  the  younger  "  braves  '•'  were  actually 
beside  themselves,  but  under  the  direction  of  a  French 
officer  and  the  famed  and  active  Ottawa  chief,  Pontiac, 
they  soon  gathered  their  senses  and  began  to  display  their 
usual  craft.  They  all  seemed  instinctively  to  know  that 
both  parties  of  scouts  came  from  Braddpck's  army.  They 
could  come  from  nowhere  else.  They  knew  also  by  what 
route  they  would  have  to  return,  and  prepared  to  intercept 
them.  Runners  were  seen  to  scatter  in  different  directions. 
Large  parties  of  fighting  men  were  distinctly  visible  creep 
ing  up  the  banks  of  the  Monongahela,  and  dispersing  them 
selves  in  the  woods,  while  still  other  parties — some  new 
jwMIes  having  been  found — embarked  in  the  canoes 
which  had  been  hastily  gathered,  and  rapidly  shot  up  the 
river. 

Meanwhile  a  few  vigorous  strokes  sent  Jack's  canoe  to 
land  thf  three  pursuing  boats  having  by  this  time  ap- 


AN   EXCITING   CHASE   AND    ESCAPE.  37 

proached  within  a  hundred  yards,  or  so ;  but  the  paddlers 
now  stood  idle,  uncertain  what  course  to  pursue.  The 
Half-King  leaped  ashore,  turned,  and  gave  another  part 
ing  yell  of  triumph  and  defiance,  while  Jack  seizing  hia 
long  and  ominous-looking  rifle,  hurriedly  drove  the  bullet 
home,  and  took  careful  aim  at  the  foremost  canoe.  The 
Indian  at  its  head  saw  the  movement,  swayed,  wriggled 
and  at  last  sank  clown  in  the  boat  to  avoid  the  shot ;  but 
the  bullet  he  missed,  found  rest  in  the  body  of  the  man 
behind  him,  who  sent  forth  a  yell,  tottered  and  fell  head- 
long. 


448123 


CHAPTER  VI. 

CHASE   ABANDONED — A    STRANGE   MYSTERY. 

"  The  purpose  you  undertake  is  dangerous ! "  Why,  that's  certain ;  'ti* 
dangerous  to  take  a  cold,  to  sleep,  to  drink : — but  I  tell  you,  my  lord 
fool,  out  of  this  nettle,  danger,  we  pluck  this  flower,  safety.— 
Henry  IV. 

What !  Give  you  a  reason  on  compulsion  1  If  reasons  were  as  plenty 
as  blackberries,  I  would  give  no  man  a  reason  on  compulsion. — 
Falttaff. 

THE  other  canoes  stopped  at  once.  The  game  \vas  up. 
Indians  never  attack  at  a  disadvantage.  Stratagem  is  their 
forte.  They  saw  at  a  glance  that  several — they  knew  not 
then  exactly  how  many — armed  and  resolute  men  could  hold 
the  ravine,  for  which  the  two  were  now  rapidly  heading, 
against  a  score,  and  silent  and  crestfallen  they  turned  their 
canoes  up  the  stream,  to  come  on  their  foes  again  at  a  more 
favored  time  and  locality. 

Captain  Jack  and  the  Half-King,  panting  and  breathless, 
now  slowly  but  steadily  climbed  the  hill,  the  fatigue  and 
excitement  they  had  lately  undergone,  as  well  as  the  pre 
cipitous  height,  rendering  rapid  motion  utterly  impossible. 
They  were  met  near  the  summit  by  Gist's  party,  and  con 
gratulations,  mingled  with  anxious  counsels,  were  inter 
changed.  A  look  of  extreme  gravity  was  on  Jack's  face, 
while  Scarooyaddy — knowing  his  rashness  to  be  the  cause 
of  all  this  danger  to  the  whole  party — hung  in  the  rear,  his 
bead  bent  in  shame  and  confusion. 

"  Well,  Captain,"  laughed  cheerily  out  the  careless  and 
Talbot,  "  I  give  you  joy.  I  knew  such  a  splendid 
38 


CHASE   ABANDONED — A   STRANGE   MYSTERY. 

and  clean-limbed  set  of  hunters  as  your  rangers  wouldn't 
have  you  for  a  leader  without  a  cause,  but  I  didn't  think 
there  was  so  much  fight  in  you.  Hurrah  !  By  the  long 
Harry,  but  you  pinked  that  scaramouch  in  the  first  canoe 
beautiful,  and  so  sudden,  too.  He  was  coming  slyly  down 
on  you,  evidently  thinking  you  didn't  see  him,  and  that 
he'd  have  it  all  his  own  way  ;  and  the  other  big  devil.  Did 
you  see  how  he  danced,  and  pranced,  and  wriggled,  and 
twisted  ?  But  the  cunning  rascal  made  his  point  after  all, 
while  the  sour,  solemn  old  fool  behind  him  got  it  bad.  He 
dropped  like  a  bag  o'  meal.  By  Jove,  haven't  we  all  had  a 
most  happy  escape  ?  " 

A  sad  kind  of  smile  broke  over  Jack's  swarthy  visage. 

"  Escape,  did  you  say?  Why,  foolish  boy,  the  danger's 
out  just  commenced.  How  are  we,  think  you,  ever  to  get 
oack  to  Braddock?  The  whole  distance  will  be,  in  a 
couple  of  hours,  swarming  with  savages,  and  we'll  have  to 
run  a  far  more  formidable  gauntlet  than  ever  did  Indians 
going  to  the  stake.  We're  not  safe  here  a  half  hour.  If 
you've  never  yet  made  your  will,  my  lord,  'tis  a  sad  over- 
Bight.  'Twill  need  all  the  skill  and  wit  you  have  to  keep 
your  fine  hair  on  your  head." 

"  How  did  all  this  occur  ? "  broke  in  Gist. 

"  Ask  the  Half-King,  yonder,"  replied  Jack.  "  Plow- 
ever,  I  haven't  a  mind  to  scold  him  more.  He's  a  heart  of 
oak.  He  never  yet  has  flinched  ;  besides,  see  how  chagrined 
he  looks ;  and  he's  been  punished,  too ;  I  don't  yet  know 
how  badly — wont  know  till  I  examine  for  myself.  It  must 
be  confessed,  also,  the  temptation  was  strong.  We  had 
about  finished  our  scout,  and  were  getting  back  to  our 
boat,  when  we  came  upon  a  French  officer  out  so  early 
hunting  squirrels.  _ 

"  We  would  have  avoided  him,  but  the  Half-King 
catching  a  glance  of  his  face,  saw  in  him  an  officer  of  the 
fort  who  last  year  threatened  to  hang  him  up  and  lash 


40  OLD   FORT  DUQUESNE. 

him  bare-backed  because  he  vainly  tried  to  win  back  some 
of  his  rebellious  people  to  their  loyalty.  'Tis  an  affront 
an  Indian  chief  can  neither  brook  nor  forgive,  and  so,  on 
the  spur  of  the  moment,  he  fired,  brought  down  his  man, 
and  his  insulter's  scalp  now  garnishes  his  girdle. 

"But  what's  to  be  done,  Gist?"  anxiously  continued 
Jack.  "  My  course  is  plain.  While  your  party  had  better 
keep  straight  back  into  the  forest,  wait  for  night  and 
work  cautiously  back  to  the  army,  the  Half-King  and 
I  must  cross  by  the  fort  again,  and  visit  a  party  we 
met  on  that  side  last  night,  and  of  whom  only  we  two 
know,  and  whom  we  must  see  again.  Said  I  not  right. 
Scarooyaddy  ?  " 

"  The  Half-King  stays  by  his  brave  brother,  The  Black 
Rifle,"  was  all  the  response. 

"  Either  path  is  beset  with  dangers,  but  I  have  others 
besides  myself  to  think  of  now,"  exclaimed  Jack,  in  an 
anxious  and  softened  manner. 

"  Captain  Jack,"  suddenly  spoke  Talbot,  "  I  know  you  to 
be  a  brave  and  I  believe  you  to  be  a  loyal  man  ;  but,  yet, 
when  I  think  of  your  being  a  volunteer  on  this  scout,  I 
trust — I  hope  your  strange  return  to  an  enemy's  camp 
means  no  damage  to  his  majesty's  service.  Braddock  him 
self  charged  me — " 

"  Silence,  rash  boy ! "  angrily  answered  Gist,  for  Jack 
haughtily  disdained  any  reply.  "  Think  you,  the  late  deaths 
of  white  and  red  chiefs  will  make  warm  welcome  for  them 
at  the  fort?  Traitors  in  our  woods  are,  happily,  as  scarce  aa 
British  lords.  I'll  answer  for  Jack's  loyalty  with  my  life. 
Aught  else  is  not  only  an  insult  to  the  bravest  ranger  on 
the  King's  side,  but  to  all  of  us.  His  secret's  his  own. 
Let  us  respect  it." 

"  Here,  then,  Gist,"  calmly  replied  Jack,  "  let  us  part. 
You  and  Fairfax  take  counsel  together, — but,  hold,  we'll 
raJk  all  in  a  row  along  this  hill  cope  where  there  ure  ^e 


CHASE   ABANDONED — A   STRANGE   MYSTERY. 


41 


trees,  so  that  we  may  be  seen  by  the  watchers  at  the  fort 
going  up  the  river  toward  Braddock.  So — now,  hopes  for 
an  early  meeting.  The  Half-King  and  I  go  first  down  the 
bank  a  couple  of  miles  to  call  on  ShingLss,  king  of  the 
Dcla  wares.  After  that,  you'll  hear  from  us.  Come,  Chief, 
if  you're  ready,  let's  step  out" 


CHAPTER    VII. 

CAPTAIN   JACK    AND   THE    HALF-KINO,   SCAROOYADDY. 

Oh,  river,  gentle  river!  gliding  on 
In  silence  underneath  the  starless  sky 
Thine  is  a  ministry  that  never  rests. 

Through  the  night  I  hear 
Thy  wavelets  rippling  on  the  pebbly  beach : 
I  hear  thy  current  stir  the  rustling  sedge 
That  skirts  thy  bed  ;  thou  intermittest  not 
Thiue  everlasting  journey.    All  night 
Thou  givest  moisture  to  the  thirsty  roots 
Of  the  lithe  willow  and  o'erhanging  plate; 
And  oherishest  the  herbage  of  thy  bank 
Spotted  with  little  flowers,  and  scndest  up 
Perpetually  the  vapors  from  thy  face, 
To  £teep  the  hills  with  dew. — Bryant. 

BEHOLD  Braddock's  scouting  party  happily  re-united  on 
the  brow  of  Coal  Hill,  opposite  Fort  Duquesne :  Gist,  Talbot, 
and  Fairfax  the  Delaware  Chief,  to  work  in  a  circuit  back 
to  the  array,  in  order  to  escape  a  swarm  of  Indian  out- 
lyers,  and  Captain  Jack  and  the  Half-King  to  go  down 
shore  to  the  lodge  of  Shingiss,  king  of  the  Delawares, 
thence  to  return  to  the  fort  side  of  the  river,  for  s-nue  mys 
terious  purpose  of  their  own. 

Be  it  our  business,  now,  to  throw  light  on  this  mystery, 
for  it  is  a  most  important  part  of  our  story. 

Braddock's  army  was,  "  like  a  wounded  snake  dragging 
its  slow  length  along,"  making  from  four  to  six  miles  a  day, 
stopping,   as   Washington   disgustfully   expressed   it,  "  to 
bridge  every  rivulet,  and  level  every  mole-hill." 
42 


CAPTAIN  JACK  AND  TIIE  HALF-KINO,  SCAROOYADDY.  43 

No  Bonder,  then,  that  it  was  the  last  of  June  when  the 
YoUghiogheny  was  passed,  at  a  point  near  the  present  town 
of  Connellsville,  and  that  it  was  on  the  3d  of  July  when 
Jacob's  Creek  was  reached,  near  where  now  stands  Mt. 
Pleasant. 

Here  it  was  that  our  scouts  left  the  army  on  their  mis 
sion  to  Fort  Duquesne.  Descending  the  crpek  to  the 
"  Yough,"and  having  there  fashioned  a  birch  canoe,  they  pro 
ceeded  down  to  the  Monongahela,  bringing  up  at  John 
Frazier's — a  venturesome  Scotch  gunsmith  and  noted  In 
dian  trader,  who  had  the  audacity  to  locate  his  little  cabin 
— the  most  western  English  habitation  across  the  Alle- 
ghenies — near  the  mouth  of  Turtle  Creek,  and  who  was 
now  serving  as  lieutenant  with  Braddock. 

Across  from  this  house,  the  party  divided,  just  at  the 
gloani  of  the  evening,  Gist  and  his  companions  proceeding, 
as  related,  along  Coal  Hill,  and  Jack  and  the  Half-King 
leisurely  descending  the  river,  designing  to  arrive  at  the 
fort  when  all  were  wrapped  in  sleep,  and  ascertain  ita 
condition  for  defence,  and  the  number  of  Indians  assem 
bled. 

The  night  was  yet  young,  and  having  abundance  of 
time,  and  yielding,  perhaps,  to  the  influences  of  the  beau 
tiful  scenery  around  them,  the  paddles  dropped  from  the 
hands  of  both  occupants  of  the  light  and  graceful  birch, 
which,  under  their  skilful  and  vigorous  strokes,  had 
danced  over  the  water  "  like  a  thing  of  life." 

The  shades  of  night,  with  all  its  weird  and  magical 
witcheries,  had  gradually  stolen  over  the  landscape.  The 
voices  of  birds  were  hushed,  save  the  plaintive  notes  of  the 
whip-poor-will,  or  the  occasional  tremulous  cries  of  the 
loon,  while  the  waters  were  unruffled  except,  ever  and 
anon,  by  the  plash  of  some  fish,  as  it  sportively  or  in  pur 
suit  of  its  prey  threw  itself  from  the  placid  stream. 

Soon  the  moon,  "  pale  regent  of  the  sky,"  cast  ita  flick* 


44  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 

ering  beams  over  wood  and  water,  diffusing,  as  it  roso  highe* 
and  higher,  a  flood  of  mellow,  tremulous  light  over  hill 
and  dale,  plain  and  river;  marking  the  one  margiu  of  the 
water  with  a  line  of  deep  shadow ;  shedding  its  soft,  lam 
bent  rays  over  the  other,  and  lighting  up  with  its  silver 
sheen  the  waters  flowing  between. 

It  was  a  scene  of  bewildering  beauty  and  enchantment, 
made  more  solemn  and  impressive  by  the  holy  hush  of  all 
nature,  and  the  solitude  of  the  vast  wilderness ;  and  persons 
far  less  cultivated  or  susceptible  than  these  simple  canoe- 
men,  would  have  been 'wooed  to  quiet  and  pensiveuess  by 
the  stillness  and  the  weird  associations  of  the  hour.  While 
thus  they  brood,  let  us  portray  them. 

The  swarthy,  sinewy,  stern-looking  man  who  sat  at  the 
rear,  his  paddle  dipping  idly  in  the  water,  and  an  earnest, 
almost  wistful  gaze  thrown  on  either  reach  of  shore,  was 
the  far-famed  scout  and  Indian-killer,  Captain  Jack ;  as 
well  known  along  the  whole  frontier  line  of  Pennsylvania 
and  Virginia,  as  was  Major  Washington  himself.  The 
mystery  surrounding  his  origin  and  life,  and  the  swart 
complexion  which  gave  him  the  look  and  name  of  the  Half- 
Indian,  added  to  his  fame.  It  was  generally  said  he  \vaa 
a  frontier  settler  who  returned  from  a  long  day's  chase, 
only  to  find  his  cabiu  a  ruin,  and  the  butchered  and  scalped 
forms  of  those  most  dear  to  him,  strewn  around. 

From  that  time,  revenge  became  his  all-absorbing  pas 
sion,  and  hunting  Indians  his  life-business,  until  he  had 
become  as  much  a  terror  to  the  savage  tribes  as  a  tower  of 
strength  to  the  white  settler.  He  became  noted  for  hia 
reckless  daring,  his  unerring  aim,  his  skill  in  woodcraft, 
the  sleuth-hound  tenacity  with  which  he  could  follow  a  trail, 
till  it  ended  in  the  very  camps  of  his  hated  foes. 

In  1753,  Jack  held  some  commission  under  Governor 
Hamilton,  and  soon  became  the  leader  of  a  party  of  bold 
and  dashing  rangers,  clad,  like  himself,  in  Indian  attire, 


CAPTAIN  JACK  xXD  THE  HALF-KING,  SCAROOYADDY.  45 

His  home  was  m  the  Juuiata  Valley,  where  even  to  this 
day  a  mountain  bears  his  name,  but  his  habitat  was  along 
the  entire  Susquehanna,  from  Fort  Augusta  to  the  Poto 
mac. 

In  those  cruel  times  of  bloody  warfare,  when  the  pitiless 
tomahawk  bore  sway,  he  lived  in  many  a  fireside  legend, 
and  his  name  was  potent  enough  to  lull  to  sleep  the  restless 
infant  in  many  a  pioneer's  cabin.  Innumerable  were  the 
tales  related  of  the  Black  Rifle,  the  Black  Hunter  of  the 
Forest,  and  the  Wild  Hunter  of  the  Juniata — for  by  all 
those  names  was  he  called. 

Early  in  June,  Jack,  with  his  trained  band  of  rangers, 
had  repaired  to  Braddock's  camp,  and  offered  their  services 
as  scouts,  stipulating  only,  that  they  should  not  be  bound 
to  camj)  or  march  regulations,  but  should  eat,  sleep,  dress, 
hunt,  and  scout  as  they  pleased.  To  this,  Braddock,  with 
that  martinet  fatuity  which  attended  his  every  step  in  this 
country,  turned  a  deaf  ear. 

Captain  Jack,  however,  was  too  fond  of  adventure  to  be 
thus  easily  driven  off;  besides,  was  he  not  on  the  track  of 
the  very  tribe  from  which  he  had  so  terribly  suffered  ? 
He  therefore,  relegating,  for  a  time,  his  gallant  band  of 
free  rangers  to  the  next  in  command,  followed,  or  rather 
preceded  the  army  as  volunteer  guide,  and  hastened  to 
attach  himself  to  the  first  and  only  scout  which  Brad- 
dock  ever  sent  out;  and  as  he  now  neared  the  hated 
Delawares,  his  keen,  gray  eye  grew  brighter  and  fiercer, 
nnd  his  whole  manner  became  more  restless  and  im 
patient. 

Still  a  rather  young  and  handsome  man,  though  the 
I  nes  of  his  face  had  become  hard,  and  his  whole  look  6tern 
and  determined,  from  the  fixedness  of  a  set  purpose.  An 
all-absorbing  passion  does  not  tend  to  give  grace  to  the  vis 
age,  or  suavity  to  the  manner,  and  therefore  Jack  was  deemed 
stern,  austere,  ar  '1  unsociable  to  those  who  knew  him  not ; 


46  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 

but  he  had  his  moods,  and  there  were  favored  times  when 
this  unrecking,  self-contaiiied  mau,  could  be  as  tender  as  a 
woman :  when  his  eye  would  soften,  and  his  tongue  loosen. 
His  intimates  hinted  at  some  early  heart  disappointment 
which  had  driven  him  from  society  to  the  frontier;  cer 
tain  is  it,  he  had,  with  all  his  bluntness  and  severity,  an  air 
tf  refinement,  and  a  mode  of  speech  not  common  to  the 
backwoods. 

Lithe,  graceful,  and  yet  tall  of  form,  without  one  ounce 
of  superfluous  flesh,  his  nerves  like  steel,  and  his  muscles 
like  whip-cords,  he  was  one  to  compel  attention  and  respect. 
His  dress  was  simple,  though  not  inelegant,  and  was  alto 
gether  suited  to  the  free  forest  1/fe  he  delighted  to  lead — 
half  Indian,  half  ranger.  His  moccasins  were  more  pro 
fusely  beaded  and  quilled  than  common ;  his  deerskin 
leggings  better  dressed  and  more  deeply  fringed,  and  hig 
tight-fitting  tunic  buttoned  with  a  row  of  wolves'  teeth.  A 
becoming  cap,  of  grey-fox  skin,  with  the  tail  hanging  over 
the  neck,  completed  the  costume  of  one  who  seemed  born 
for  the  woods,  and  whom  we  acknowledge  as  the  hero  of  our 
story.  (See  Appendix  E.) 

As  for  ornaments,  save  a  richly-decked  hunter's  knife,  a 
beaded  bullet-pouch,  and  a  brass-studded  powder  horn,  In- 
had  none,  and  needed  none.  His  trusty  rifle,  long,  black, 
and  ominous-looking,  lay  against  one  of  the  thwarts  of  the 
canoe,  ready  for  instant  service.  It  may  well  be  supposed, 
that  depending  on  this  weapon  not  only  for  his  living  and 
his  protection,  but  as  the  instrument  of  his  revenge,  he  waa 
its  master.  Many  a  lurking  foe  had  been  sought  out  by  its 
unerring  bullet.  It  had  given  him  his  most  common  name 
among  the  Indians,  and  La  Carrabine  Noir,  or  The  Black 
Rifle,  was  as  well  known  to  the  Cauhuewagas  of  Canada, 
and  the  Ottawas  about  the  big  lakes,  as  to  the  Dela wares 
and  Shawnees  along  the  Ohio. 

H's  companion,  with  body  at  rest,  still  as  that  summer 


CAPTAIN  JACK  AND  THE  HALF-KING,  SCAROOYADDY.  47 

evening,  but  with  gleaming,  searching  eye  noting  every 
bending  willow,  and  every  slightest  reach  of  either  shore, 
was  not  only  a  full-blooded,  but  a  noble-blooded  Indian 
Chief,  Scarooyaddy  called  by  some,  and  Monecatootha  by 
others. 

A  true  child  of  the  woods,  he;  cradled  amid  its  babbling 
brooks,  its  rustling  leaves,  its  twining  vines,  and  its  chang 
ing  flowers.  He  knew  all  nature's  moods  and  seasons;  all 
the  habits  of  its  animals,  and  how  readiest  to  kill  or  entrap 
them;  knew  all  the  Indian  trails  and  wiles,  and  the 
various  signs  and  devices  which  taught  him  how  best 
to  avoid,  pursue,  deceive,  and  conquer.  This  had  been 
his  life  for  over  fifty  years,  and  there  was  little  in  wil 
derness  wood-craft  or  in  savage  war-craft  he  did  not 
know. 

No  name  stands  higher,  or  is  mentioned  more  frequently 
in  our  Colonial  records  and  State  archives  than  that  of 
Scarooyaddy,  the  Half-King  of  the  Iroquois.  His  services 
to  the  English  dated  from  his  attendance  on  Major  Wash 
ington,  on  the  mission  to  French  Creek,  set  afoot  by  Gover 
nor  Dinwiddie,  of  Virginia,  and  were  continued  all  through 
Braddock's  and  Forbes'  Expeditions.  He  was  ever  un- 
Bwerviug  in  loyalty  and  unmatched  for  boldness  and  energy. 
He  was  the  most  noted  of  the  seven  Indians  who  accom 
panied  Braddock  to  the  fatal  field,  and  was  publicly 
thanked  by  Governor  Morris  and  the  Pennsylvania  Assem 
bly  for  his  services. 

His  dress  and  trappings  scarce  require  special  mention. 
They  differed  only  from  Jack's  in  being  more  Indian  in 
character.  His  leggings  were  tufted  with  scalp  hairs  instead 
of  fringe,  and  his  scalp  lock — that  open  challenge  and  de 
fiance  to  an  enemy — was  drawn  back  in  a  single  line,  and 
crested  with  Eagle  feathers,  tricked  out  on  the  sides  xith 
the  gayer  plumuge  of  the  Jay.  Altogether,  the  old  Half- 
King  ws  as  noble  and  dangerous-looking  a  savage  as  aoj 


48  OL1>   FOllT   DUQUESNE. 

foe  would  care  to  meet  on  a  trail ;  active  as  cat  and 
supple  as  serpent,  every  look  and  motion  was  full  of 
life  and  native  grace.  It  need  only  be  added  that  he 
understood  and  talked  English  pretty  well,  and  was  a  fast 
friend  and  great  admirer  of  Captain  Jack.  (See  Ap 
pendix  F.) 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

DOWN   THE   MONONGAHELA. 

Effsoons  they  heard  a  most  melodious  sound 
Of  all  that  might  delight  a  dainty  ear; 
Such  as  at  once  might  not,  on  living  ground, 
Save  in  this  Paradise,  be  heard  elsewhere  I 

Spenser. — Fairy  Quetn. 

That  strain  again  I  it  had  a  dying  fall. 
O !  it  came  o'er  my  ear  like  the  sweet  South 
That  breathes  upon  a  bank  of  violets, 
Stealing,  and  giving  odor. 

Shakspearc.— Twelfth  Night. 

AFT  ER  floating  and  paddling  along  in  silence  for  some 
time,  Jack  thus  addressed  his  long-time  friend  and  com 
panion,  m  the  Indian  dialect,  which  we  freely  translate  for 
the  beuent  of  our  readers,  preserving  the  idiom  : — 

"  And  how  long,  think  ye,  Chief,  are  we  from  the  De-uu- 
da-ga?"  (the  forks  of  the  Ohio,  so  called  by  all  the  In 
dians).  "Now  that  we  are  not  specially  after  scalps, 
'twould  be  more  healthy  for  us  to  get  to  the  fort  after  your 
kith  and  kin  are  dead  in  sleep,  else  we'll  have  trouble  in 
counting  heads,  even  should  we  escape  having  our  back 
hair  twigged.  It's  been  many  moons,  Yaddy,  since  we've 
been  on  the  trail  together,  and  it  kind  of  goes  against  my 
grain  to  hunt  savages  up  to  their  very  lair,  only  to  bid 
them  a  good  evening,  and  see  whether  they  have  bear  or 
buck  boiling  in  their  camp  kettles." 

"  Well,  Captain,  if  I  know  anything  of  sigL3,  hereabout, 
4  49 


60  OLD    FORT   DUQUESNE. 

'tis  but  a  short  hour's  paddle  until  our  canoe  is  laid  along 
the  palisades  of  the  fort.  But  we  must  be  wise  as  serpents, 
and  not  like  young  braves  on  their  first  war-path.  You 
know  the  great  White  Chief  bade  us  open  our  eyes  and 
ears,  but  close  our  memories." 

"  Great  White  Fiddlesticks,  Chief,  say  I — a  ridiculous 
old  popinjay,  and  drill-sergeant  rather,  with  his  facings 
and  starchings,  his  frills  and  ruffles,  and  his  flummeries  and 
mummeries.  Ever  since  his  gouty  toes  have  trodden  our 
country,  he  has  done  nothing  but  scold,  and  strut  and 
swear  at  our  native  troops  and  riflemen.  He'd  teach  us  how 
to  fight  savages.  He  don't  want,  forsooth,  wood-rangerg 
nor  trained  Indian  fighters — every  mother's  son  of  whom 
could  bore  out  a  squirrel's  eye  from  an  oak's  topmost  bough, 
or  better  still,  pick  off  a  redskin  if  he  only  saw  the  white 
of  a  peeper — but  he  would  rout,  and  crush  the  reds  by 
noise  and  flare  of  drum,  the  glisten  of  bayonets,  the  polish 
of  boots  and  brass  buttons,  and  the  manoeuvres  of  a  ball 
room." 

"  My  young  white  brother,"  quietly  interposed  the  Half- 
King,  "  has  his  ears  stuffed  with  cotton  when  the  old  Chief 
is  mentioned.  He  has  fought  many  great  battles  over  the 
big  waters." 

"  Bah,  Chief,  you  know  better !  I  tell  you,  were  it  not 
for  Washington  and  the  colonial  riflemen,  I  wouldn't  give 
a  Delaware's  chance  before  this  rifle,  for  all  King  George's 
army.  You  know  how  he  insulted  and  drove  off  my  hun 
ters,  every  one  of  whom  has  treed  and  shot  and  scalped  his 
foe,  and  could  hit  a  'painter's'  eye,  even  when  on  the 
bound,  at  a  hundred  paces.  So  help  me — But  listen !  what 
strange  noise  is  that  ?  As  I  live,  Chief,  it  sounds  like  music, 
and  yet  music  in  this  solitude — impossible." 

The  l:ght  birch  was  stilled  with  a  motion,  and  with  pad 
dles  poised  in  hand,  the  two  stood  to  their  feet,  every  sense 
on  the  alert ;  the  ears  strained  to  catch  the  soft  sounds  of 


DOJTN  THE   MONOyGAHELA.  61 

music — for  music  it  was — which  stole  in  gentle  pulses  ovei 
the  water,  now  rising  to  a  rich  fulness  and  now  dying  a\vuj 
into  the  distance,  with  cadences  so  soft  and  trills  so  geutle, 
that  nothing  scarce  could  live  between  them  and  silence. 

Almost  breathless  Jack  leaned  forward,  his  eyes  ic 
amaze  and  his  whole  mien  softened. 

"  Do  my  ears  deceive  me,  Chief?  Is  this  spirit  land  ? 
Frazier  is  away  with  the  army,  and  Frazier  can  make  guns, 
and  shoot  them,  too,  but  he  can't  make  music  like  that. 
Who  and  what  can  it  ever  be?  If  I  were  not  where  I  am, 
my  old  friend,  I  would  say  those  were  the  notes  of  a  magic 
flute,  and  played,  too,  with  a  master  touch,  by  one  who 
knows  well  all  the  stops  and  humors  of  his  instrument. 

"  Ah,  well-a-day,"  softly  continued  Jack,  after  an  atten 
tive  silence,  "  those  sweet,  plaintive  notes  carry  me  back  to 
the  days  of  my  youth,  when  I  lived  in  the  great  city,  and 
when  my  eyes  and  ears,  yes,  and  heart  too,  had  not  be 
come  accustomed  to  the  rude  encounters  and  bloody  strug, 
gles  of  a  frontier  life. 

"  But  we  must  not  stay  musing,  and  dreaming  here, 
Chief,  for  I  see  that  you,  too,  who  know  nothing  of  music 
but  the  Seneca's  drum,  or  Braddock's  bugles,  are  dazed  by 
those  soft  melodies.  I  ne'er  knew  but  one  who  could 
breathe  forth  such  witching  strains,  and  he,  alas,  if  not 
now  dead,  is  far  removed  from  this  leafy  wilderness.  Turn 
the  prow  to  yonder  broken  line  of  willows,  which  marks 
the  mouth  of  some  run,  and  we'll  soon  know  whether  these 
be  spirit  melodies  or  no." 

A  motion  or  two,  and  the  canoe  gently  glided  into  a 
little  cove  overhung  by  arching  willows,  and  rifle  at  rest, 
the  two  scouts,  with  cat-like  tread  and  eyes  peering  into 
every  tuft  and  hummock  and  shadow,  mounted  the  bank 
and  hastily  advanced  toward  a  widening  ravine,  in  which 
the  light  of  a  fire,  glowing  upon  the  sorroundiug  foliage. 
waa  now  Distinctly  visible. 


62  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 

The  flute,  or  whatever  was  the  instrument,  was  now  mute, 
and  as  the  two  intruders  glided  forward  from  tree  to  tree, 
all  at  once  a  merry,  ringing  peal  of  laughter,  clear  and  sil 
very  as  a  bell,  and  evidently  from  one  of  the  gentler  sex, 
awakened  the  echoes  of  the  forest,  and  came  wafted  to  them 
like  a  stream  of  rich  melody,  from  a  sort  of  bark-covered 
hut,  or  rather  bower,  a  little  aside  from  the  direction  m 
which  they  were  looking,  causing  a  thrill  and  shudder  to 
creep  over  Captain  Jack's  person.  He  seemed,  all  at  once, 
overcome  with  some  mysterious  emotion,  and  grasped  his 
companion's  arm  with  such  a  convulsive  and  vice-like  grip, 
that  the  Indian,  stoical  as  he  was  by  nature  and  education, 
fairly  winced,  as  much  with  the  pain  as  with  the  unac 
countable  suddenness  of  the  apparently  unfriendly  grapple. 

"  By  the  Great  Spirit  above  us,  Jack !"  hissed  the  Half- 
King,  with  gleaming  eyes,  "  do  you  take  me  for  a  Dela 
ware,  or  an  Ottawa,  that  you  give  me  this  rude  bear's  hug? 
Art  mad,  brother?  Hands  off,  I  say,  or  I'll  think  the 
spirit  of  these  woods,  which  has  just  befooled  us  both,  has 
completely  stolen  away  your  senses.  If  we  don't  act  less 
like  that  merry  maiden,  whose  laugh  is  like  the  warble  of 
a  wood-thrush,  our  scalps  will  to-night  deck  old  Shingiss' 
wigwam,  and  be  dressed  by  his  squaws.  What  has  come 
over  you  ?  " 

"  Hist !  Chief,  speak  lower,  and  forgive  me.  I  was  o'er- 
mastered  by — I  know  not  what — a  note,  a  voice,  a  memory 
of  the  past.  'Tis  wondrous  strange,  but  suspense  is  worse 
than  death.  I  must  unravel  this  mystery  to  its  very  end. 
Keep  within  the  shadow  of  yonder  huge  buttonwoods; 
stay  near  me,  and  forward !  " 

They  glided  on  and  on  like  shadows,  until  they  stood 
together  fairly  on  the  edge  of  the  circle  lit  up  by  the  fire, 
and  their  startled,  wondering  eyes  gradually  took  in  the 
salient  points  of  the  strange  scene. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

A  STRANGE  SCENE  IN  THE  WILDERNESS. 

A  nook  within  the  forest :  overhead 
The  branches  arch,  and  shape  a  pleasant  bower. 
What  splendid  walls  I 

And  what  a  gorgeous  roof,  carved  by  the  hand 
Of  glorious  nature !     Here  the  spruce  thrusts  in 
Its  bristling  plume,  tipped  with  its  pale  green  points; 
The  scalloped  beech-leaf,  and  the  birch's  cut 
Into  fine  ragged  edges,  interlaced. 
A  thick,  rich,  grassy  carpet  clothes  the  earth. 
Those  breaths  of  nature,  the  light,  fluttering  airs, 
Like  gentle  respirations,  come  and  go, 
Lift  on  its  crimson  stem  the  maple  leaf, 
Displaying  its  white  lining  underneath; 
And  sprinkle  from  the  tree-tops  golden  rain 
Of  sunshine  on  the  velvet  sward  below. 
Such  uooka  as  this  are  common  in  the  woods. 

Alfred  B.  Strett 

The  voice  that  won  me  first ! 
Oh !  what  a  tide  of  recollections  rush 
Upon  my  drowning  soul. — Louisa  G.  Hall. 

IMAGINE  to  yourself,  reader,  a  ravine,  skirted  on  eitheT 
side  by  precipitous  hills,  feathered  to  their  tops  with  a  luxu 
riant  foliage ;  on  the  wide  and  perfectly  level  bottom,  a 
grove  of  sugar-maples,  with  no  undergrowth  of  bush  or 
shrub,  or  tangled  vine,  but  a  bright  carpet  of  green,  on  one 
side  of  which,  and  hugging  the  hill  in  a  graceful  curve,  a 
rapid,  babbling  little  stream  rippled  and  murmured  its 
blithesome  way  to  the  Monongahela.  The  grove,  judging 

63 


54  OLD   FORT   DUQUESin* 

from  the  rude  bark  vessels  at  the  maples'  trunks,  was  an 
old  Indian  sugar  camp. 

Right  on  the  stream's  margin,  was  a  blazing  log-fire,  its 
flickering  flames  ever  aud  anon  bursting  into  flashing  jets, 
und  brighter  lights,  and  throwing  the  surrounding  scenery, 
as  well  as  the  overarching  foliage,  now  into  light,  and  now 
into  shadow. 

On  a  fallen  tree  trunk,  some  little  distance  beyond  the 
fire,  its  fla/aes  clearly  lighting  up  each  form,  and  relieving 
it  against  the  deep  darkness  beyond,  sat  a  party  of  three ; 
the  central  figure,  and  the  one  just  now  breathing  again 
into  his  flute,  and  drawing  forth  its  softest  melodies,  was  a 
venerable,  white-haired  old  man,  with  an  appearance  of 
unusual  refinement,  and  a  countenance  of  singular  gentle 
ness  and  delicacy — the  very  last  figure  one  would  expect 
to  see  in  such  a  place.  With  his  snowy  and  wavy  beard, 
he  looked  like  a  patriarch  of  old. 

But  the  accessories  of  this  scene  served  but  to  increase  the 
mystery.  On  the  one  side  of  the  flute  player  sat  a  well- 
dressed,  and  gentlemanly-looking  French  officer  of  some 
what  uncertain  age,  while  on  the  other,  was  a  dusky  and 
swarthy  savage,  with  a  milder  and  more  intelligent  face 
than  usual  with  Indians  ;  while  reclining  on  the  grass  in 
front,  was  a  fiercer  and  younger-looking  Chief,  who  occa- 
ei^naHy  cast  stolen  glances  towards  the  bower. 

All  were  gazing  earnestly  at  the  noble-looking  old 
gentleman,  and  apparently  drinking  in  with  rapture  each 
dulcet  note  as  thrown  off  by  his  fingers.  The  Indian 
Chiefs  were  both  in  their  war  garb,  their  scalp-locks  all  new 
ly  dressed  with  feathers  and  their  faces  barred  with  colors. 

To  complete  the  picturesque  scene,  a  white  horse,  hob 
bled,  stood  half  in  light  and  half  in  shadow,  munching 
the  velvety  grass.  The  whole  made  a  picture  worthy  of 
Rembrandt,  and  one  which  we  in  vain  essay  to  depict.  It 
wsemed  like  some  wild  Gypsy  grouping. 


A.  STRANGE   SCENE   IN    THE   WILDERNESS.  55 

The  Half-King  was  the  first  to  recover  both  his  senses, 
and  his  voice,  for  Jack  stood  still,  leaning  heavily  against 
his  tree  and  fetching  deep  and  hurried  breaths,  occasionally 
glancing  uneasily  and  expectantly  toward  the  woman's 
bower,  as  if  he  waited  some  apparition  to  come  thence. 

A  bright  gleam  of  intelligence  broke  over  the  Half- 
King's  face,  and  touching  Jack,  he  whispered  : 

"  Scarooyaddy  sees  and  understands  it  all.  The  old  man 
with  silver  locks,  I  know  not,  but  the  white  Chief  is  da 
Beaujeu,  commandant  of  the  fort;  the  great  red  Chief  at 
the  other  side  is  Athanase,  the  Christian  Mohawk  from 
Canada,  and  leader  of  all  the  Indian  forces  now  about  the 
fort ;  the  other  Chief  is  a  great  warrior  from  my  own  tribe, 
and  went  with  Washington,  Gist,  .Tannecharison  and  my- 
se^f  to  Wenango  in  '53.  He's  a  great  hunter,  and  '  brave.' 
TT?  call  him  Kiosola,  but  he's  knowp  in  the  settlements  as 
Gnyasutha.  They  all  come  up  from  the  fort ;  will  be  going 
back  soon,  and  'twould  be  wise  if  we  would  ambush  them." 

"  Stay !  not  so,  Chief,"  answered  Jack,  looking  much  rc« 
lieved,  and  gradually  coming  to  himself  again,  "  I  have  fai 
other  business  in  view.  J  begin  to  understand,  too,  though 
there  is  much  yet  that  appears  strange  and  unaccountable 
to  me.  I  know,  or  did  once  know  the  old  man  well,  exceed 
ing  well,  and  a  better,  or  a  purer  creature  was  never  fash 
ioned  by  the  Great  Spirit.  I  thank  God  that  I  see  him 
once  more — I  thought  him  dead.  Stir  not  for  your  life, 
while  I  steal  to  yonder  bower  to  complete  my  knowledge. 
I  will  know  the  worst,  or — best." 

So  saying,  Jack — though  in  great  agitation — glided 
stealthily  along  until  he  stood  at  the  back  of  the  little  open 
hut,  and  peering  through  some  fragrant  pine  branches 
which  formed  one  side  of  this  fragile  summer  enclosure,  his 
ejes  were  soon  masters  of  its  contents. 

Here  is  what  he,  with  varying  and  conflicting  emctions, 
beheld : 


56  OLD    FORT    DUQUE8NE. 

A  lady  of  a  bright,  intelligent,  and  expressive  face ;  not^ 
reader,  as  the  sentimentalist  would  say,  "  of  alabaster  brow, 
ruby  lips,  a  face  of  Grecian  contour,  and  teeth  like  two 
rows  of  snowy  pearls,"  but  a  mature,  and  real  flesh-and- 
Uood  woman,  with  a  sparkling  eye,  and  a  shapely  head, 
around  which  was  simply  massed  and  fastened  by  a  single 
comb,  a  wealth  of  dark,  wavy  brown  hair. 

She  was  sitting  on  a  sort  of  camp  stool,  with  a  rudely- 
fashioned  painter's  easel  before  her;  a  palette  of  water 
colors  in  one  hand,  while  the  other  transferred  to  the  paper 
the  shifting,  shimmering  glows  and  tints  from  the  neck  of 
a  wild  pigeon,  which  was  placed  on  a  twig  at  her  side  in  a 
life-like  position,  as  if  the  bird  had  just  lighted  for  an  in 
stant  before  taking  a  new  flight. 

Not  so  intent  on  her  pleasing  task  but  time  was  found  to 
bandy  phrases  and  exchange  repartees  in  French  with  a 
bold  and  dashing-looking  officer  from  the  fort,  who  reclined 
near  her  on  a  bear  skin,  toying  with  the  plumage  of  an  os- 
prey — which  was  waiting  its  turn  to  be  portrayed — a  shade 
of  sadness  on  his  manly  face,  and  a  touch  of  tenderness  iu 
his  tones. 

Near  both,  and  engaged  in  quilling  a  moccasin — strange 
sight  in  such  a  place — sat  a  young,  and  very  beautiful  In 
dian  girl  of  apparently  some  fifteen  or  sixteen  years,  with 
little  moccasined  feet,  ornamented  leggings,  short  em 
broidered  skirt,  and  a  gay  kerchief  over  her  bosom.  Her 
hair,  though  of  raven  black,  was  finer  and  softer  than 
usual  with  Indians.  Her  face  was  of  clear  color,  and  sin 
gularly  delicate  and  refined  for  one  so  born  and  nurtured, 
and  a  pensiveness  even  amounting  to  sadness,  lent  an 
unusual  grace  and  interest.  Occasionally  her  dark,  lus 
trous  eyes  would  lift  towards  the  others,  and  a  bright  smile 
of  affection  light  up  her  soft,  young  countenance,  and  she 
would  seem  to  draw  nearer  to  her  only  female  companion, 
attcut  on  every  word  she  uttered. 


A   STRANGE  SCENE   IN   THE   WILDERNESS.  57 

The  older  lady  would  have  attracted  attention  anywhere, 
not  so  much  from  the  regularity  of  her  features  as  from 
the  spirit  and  expression  which  played  about  them,  and 
the  symmetry  and  gracefulness  of  her  person.  Her  face 
was  one  which  "  lighted  up  well,"  and  which  responded  to 
every  passing  thought  and  emotion.  She  had  that  ever- 
changeful  and  never-dying  charm  of  expression  which 
neither  years,  nor  suffering,  nor  disappointment  can  de 
stroy,  and  which  outlives  all  beauty  of  mere  feature  or 
complexion. 

Totally  unconscious  of  the  ardent,  bewildered  gaze  of 
any  bold  intruder,  she  sat  in  a  perfectly  free  and  uncon 
strained  posture,  her  little  moccasined  foot  advanced,  and 
her  whole  carriage  one  of  grace  and  abandon — evidently  a 
person  of  gentleness  and  refinement,  and  so  much  the  more 
difficult  to  harmonize  with  her  rude,  but  exceedingly  pic 
turesque  surroundings. 

Her  dress,  too,  was  one  well  calculated  to  set  off  her 
superb  figure,  and  to  increase  the  charm  of  her  presence. 
Like  her  young  companion — to  whom  she  ever  and  anon 
cast  pleasant  and  loving  glances — she  wore  the  quill  and 
bead  moccasin,  ending  in  a  beautifully  ornamented  buskin, 
while  her  dress  was  more  like  a  tunic,  only  longer  and  of 
a  fiuer  material,  and  fastened  by  a  silken  sash  about  the 
waist. 

The  upper  portion  of  her  person  was  enclosed  in  a  richly- 
embroidered  jacket,  closely  fashioned  to  her  figure.  Her 
throat — which  was  of  an  exquisite  shape — was  bared  and 
devoid  of  ornament,  the  lower  portion  only  encased  in  a 
little  lace  ruff.  She  was  many  years  older  than  the  young 
Indian  girl  beside  her,  and  yet  her  eye  had  such  a  bright 
ness  in  it,  and  her  face  such  a  flush  of  health  aud  color, 
that  this  could  only  gradually  be  learned. 

Altogether  a  wondrous  grouping  for  a  Western  wilder 
ness  and  so  thought  Jack,  as  his  bosom  heaved  tumultu- 


58 


OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 


ously,  and  the  fierce  light  came  and  went  into  his  eyea 
His  fingers  occasionally  clutched  his  tomahawk,  and  a 
quiver  went  over  his  manly  form,  when,  after  a  brief  and 
rather  1  nv  conversation  in  French  between  the  lady  and 
the  officer,  their  voices  arose  in  unison  in  a  soft  duet,  still 
in  the  same  foreign  language. 

Then  Jack  was  fairly  beside  himself.  He  seemed  impa 
tient  of  all  restraint,  and,  had  it  not  been  for  the  Half- 
King's  whispered  but  earnest  words  of  caution,  he  would 
have  broken  through  the  slight  intervening  obstacles  and 
burst  into  the  lady's  presence.  What  he  would  have  said 
and  done  can  only  be  surmised  from  the  sequel. 


CHAPTER  X. 

TWO  OLD   FRIENDS   MEET  AGAIN. 

O!  grief  hath  changed  me  since  yon  saw  me  last; 
And  careful  hours,  with  Time's  deforming  hand, 
Have  written  strange  defeatures  in  my  face. 

Comedy  of  Error*. 

HE  had  not,  however,  long  to  wait.  Footsteps  and 
voices  were  heard  approaching.  The  venerable  form  of 
the  old  gentleman  appeared  in  the  open  doorway,  and  said 
in  French : 

"  Eh,  bien,  Monsieur  le  Capitaine  Dumas,  you  must  not 
deem  me  rude  if  I  interrupt  your  and  Marie's  mournful 
song.  De  Beaujeu  and  the  Chiefs  have  tired  of  my  poor 
music,  and  gone  to  the  fort,  and  bade  me  tell  you  they 
would  await  you  at  the  first  bend  of  the  river  below." 

"Ah,  Monsieur  de  Bonneville,  and  is  it  then  so  late? 
Mon  Dieu,"  rising  as  he  spoke,  "  you  must  not  blame  us 
poor  imprisoned  officers  if,  when  once  we  find  gentle  ladies 
in  these  savage  wilds,  we  take  little  note  of  time.  I  have 
been  trying  to  persuade  your  daughter,  now  that  our  run 
ners  tell  us  Braddock  is  drawing  near,  to  take  refuge  ia 
the  fort.  Believe  me,  Monsieur,  in  case  we  resolve  to  op 
pose  le  General  Braddock,  the  fierce  struggles  which  must 
shortly  ensue  in  these  woods,  make  it  an  unfit  place  for 
etich  as  these,"  pointing  to  the  two  maidens. 

"  I  have  been  thinking  much  of  this,  Captain,"  replied 
the  fond  father,  in  low,  but  earnest  tones ;  "  and  yet  we 
have  been  treated  by  you,  and  your  fierce  Indians  from  so 

SO 


60  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 

many  different  tribes,  with  such  marked  respect  and  kind 
ness,  that  we  could  scarce  expect  less  from  our  own  frieudg 
who  are  approaching." 

"  But,  Monsieur,  war  is  now  fairly  broken  out  between 
us  and  the  English — if  not  in  name,  yet  in  deed ;  soon  the 
British  advance  will  be  along  the  river,  for  we  think  they 
must  come  this  way.  We  can  scarcely  hope,  with  our  in 
ferior  numbers,  and  with  only  a  mob  of  untrained  savages, 
to  oppose  them  short  of  the  fort,  even  if  we  can  stand  there, 
and  you  and  Marie  were  safer  with  us.  Promise  me  to 
think  of  this,  Monsieur." 

"  I  do,  and  when  next  you  come,  will  have  resolved. 
Good-night,  and  bon  voyage  to  you,  Captain." 

Turning  to  the  girls,  who  were  tidying  up  the  hut,  he 
continued  in  English: 

"  Marie,  love,  I  feel  unusually  sad  this  evening,  and 
must  retire.  The  wood  notes  of  our  forest  home  seem 
especially  mournful  to-night.  Even  the  cricket  and  tree- 
frogs  have  a  sort  of  dismal  croak,  while  that  owl  from  the 
hillside  beyond  the  run,  keeps  up  a  most  doleful  plaint.  Do 
you  and  "Wau-ki-na  retire,  while  I  go  and  arrange  the  fire 
and  kettle,  and  take  old  Dobbin  and  hobble  him  in  a  new 
pasture." 

Out  again  into  the  grove,  and  now  Jack's  time  had  come 
at  last.  Gliding  around  to  the  opening  of  the  little  cabin  ; 
anxious,  faltering,  but  soon  resolved,  he  gave  forth  a  low, 
and  very  peculiar  whistle. 

Marie  sprang  up  as  if  it  had  been  the  warning  rattle  of 
a  snake — evidently  a  familiar  and  yet  incredible  sound. 
Her  color  fast  came  and  went.  She  had  a  startled  and 
troubled  air;  a  crimson  flush  mantled  her  cheeks.  She 
stood  attentive,  anxious,  distressed;  hoping,  may  be,  yet 
learing. 

Again  the  low  signal  whistle,  and  Jack's  tall,  stalwart 
form  fi]1ed  the  doorway.  Marie  shrank  back  with  a  shud- 


TWO   OLD    FRIENDS   MEET   AGAIN.  61 

ier,  and  a  low  moan  of  affright.  The  Indian  girl  retreated 
to  the  other  room,  for  the  hut  was  divided  into  two  simple 
apartments. 

Their  eyes  met.  Marie's  gaze  was  long,  earnest,  fearful, 
as  if  painfuhy  tracing  out  features  once  familiar,  and  yet 
very,  very  greatly  changed. 

At  last,  she  murmured,  shrinkiugly,  timorously,  but  in 
quiringly,  and  with  a  certain  daze  in  her  face : 

"  Edward  ?  it  cannot  be ;  and  yet,  and  yet — " 

"  Edward  it  is,  Marie,  but  not  the  mere  boy  you  knew 
ten  years  ago,  but  a  man — matured — full-grown — one  who 
has  much  suffered,  too,  but  who  never  expected  to  see 
Marie  de  Bonneville  again — at  least  in  this  world." 

But  Marie  heard  no  longer — not  even  so  long.  This 
unlooked-for  apparition  of  the  past,  coming  out  of  the 
darkness  she  knew  not  how,  and  from  some  place  she  knew 
not  where,  was  too  much  for  the  poor  girl,  and  she  first 
shook  like  an  aspen,  and  then  swooned  to  the  earth. 

"Why,  Marie!"  exclaimed  Jack,  hastening  towards 
her,  the  utmost  alarm  and  anxiety  depicted  on  his  face,  "  it 
is  I — the  same  Edward  you  once  knew  so  well,  in  the  very 
flesh  and  blood.  Come!  come!  look  up,  and  rise,  Marie; 
rise,  I  heseech  you !  I  was  an  unmannered  boor  to  come 
on  ye  so  sudden.  What  have  I  done?  Here,  you — you 
Indian  girl,  come  to  the  lady's  aid,  do  you  hear  ?  quick ! 
quick!" 

Out  sprang  the  young  "  Indian  girl,"  her  black  hair  dis 
hevelled,  her  eyes  aflame,  as  she  boldly  and  with  vehement 
gesture  reproached  the  rash  intruder. 

4Ah,  you!  What  for  you  kill  the  good,  sweet  lady? 
Wau-ki-na  saw  you  and  heard  you.  You  very,  very  bad, 
cruel 'pale  face;'  worse  than  Mingo,  you" — but  as  her 
flashing  eyes  met  the  anxious,  puzzled,  distressful  gaze  of 
Jack,  she  started,  and  quailed  as  if  overcome  with  some 
memory,  averted  her  looks,  and  sank  to  the  ground  be* 


62  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 

side  her  companion,  her  young  arms  twining  about  her 
form. 

Marie  soon  regained  her  consciousness,  sighed,  and  cast  a 
ehy,  bewildered  glance  around,  until  her  eyes  again  met 
those  of  Jack,  and  a  shudder  convulsed  her  form.  At  last 
fche  managed  to  murmur,  her  syllables  falling  slowly,  one 
by  one,  as  if  it  pained  her  to  utter  them. 

"  Is — it — really — a — dream, — or — can — you  —  be — Ed 
ward — Percy,  my  earliest  friend  and  companion  in  times 
long  past?1' 

Her  face  flushed,  and  her  maidenly  modesty  took 
alarm  at  his  presence  there  and  thus,  and  the  seeming 
familiarity  of  calling  this  strong,  stern,  swarthy-look 
ing  man  of  apparently  thirty-five,  by  his  Christian 
name. 

"  Marie ! "  tremulously  spake  Jack,  "  I  say  again  it  is 
Edward  Percy ;  but  he  was  mad  to  so  take  you  at  una 
wares.  Forgive  him,  will — " 

"  Oh,  that  voice  again  !  It  must,  it  must  be  Edward  ;  and 
yet — and  yet — oh,  Edward ! "  looking  at  him  timidly,  searcb- 
ingly,  and  with  clasped  hands,  "  why  did  you  all  leave 
Philadelphia  and  us  so  abruptly,  without  one  word  or  mes 
sage  ?  It  was  cruel,  cruel  in  you.  Where  are  your  dear 
mother  and  sisters,  and  where  have  you  been  these  many, 
many  long  years  ?  " 

"  Ah,  Marie,  that  were  a  long  and  sad  story  to  tell.  My 
reason  for  leaving  with  my  mother's  family  for  the  West 
need  not  now  or  here  be  told,  if,  indeed,  you  cannot  guess 
it  better  than  all  others.  But  enough.  I  took  them  to  the 
banks  of  the  Susquehauna.  I  there  built  us  a  cabin,  made 
a  clearing,  turned  to  a  hunter-farmer,  and  was  soon  learn 
ing  to  forget  the  past,  when,  one  day,  after  a  long  and 
fatiguing  hunt  after  a  stag,  I  returned  to  find  my  little 
cabin  a  smouldering  ruin,  everything  bnrvt  to  the  <rj-ound 
atock  d-iven  off,  nothing — " 


TWO   OLD    FRIENDS   MEET   AGAIN.  63 

"  Oh,  merciful  heaven !  And  your  good  mother,  and 
Emma,  and  little  toddling  Lucy?" 

"  Gone,  all  gone ;  not  a  trace  of  them  to  be  seen,"  almost 
convulsively  replied  Jack,  his  hands  nervously  clutching 
his  rifle,  and  the  old  fierceness  returning  to  his  eyes  and  the 
hardness  to  his  voice. 

"But — they  had  only  fled  to  the  woods — you  surely 
found  them  again — I  shall  soou  see  them — they  are  with 
you  now,  and  here,  are  they  not?"  hurriedly  queried 
Marie,  with  increasing  excitement,  and  with  her  earnest, 
questioning  eyes  fastened  on  his,  as  if  fearing  to  hear 
more. 

"  Never  in  this  world,  Marie :  I  hope  so  in  a  better ;  but 
I  cannot,  dare  not  dwell  on  the  harrowing  scene  which  next 
met  my  eyes.  I  had  scarce  followed  the  track  of  the  sav 
ages  to  the  edge  of  the  woods,  before  I  saw  the  mutilated 
remains  of  my  dear,  gentle  mother ;  I  might  almost  say 
our  gentle  mother,  Marie  ;  a  little  further  on — oh,  horror — 
I  came  on  Emma,  faint,  bleeding,  and  kneeling  against  a 
tree,  her  head  hacked  in  a  manner  too  sickening  to  describe. 
She  had  only  time  to  answer  my  inquiring  glance  by  point 
ing  to  the  woods,  before  she  expired.  I  rushed  forward 
after  my  pet,  my  darling  sister  Lucy,  and — " 

"  Lucy,  Lucy,"  softly  repeated  Wau-ki-na,  as  if  dreamily 
going  over  to  herself  a  name  she  had  once  heard  but  lost 

The  eyes  of  Jack  and  Marie  both  turned  quickly  towards 
her,  but  she  was  bent  over  her  beads,  whispering  to  her 
self. 

"  You  had  better,  dear  "NVau-ki-na,  go  to  your  .couch," 
Marie  gently  spoke ;  "  this  is  an  old,  old  acquaintance,  and 
we  would  speak  together." 

The  young  Indian  maiden  slowly  retired,  a  troubled  ex 
pression  on  her  brow,  and  casting  a  lingering  gaze,  first  at 
Marie,  and  then  at  the  mysterious  stranger. 

"  Soon,"  continued  Jack,  "  I  came  upon  a  little  ribbon 


64  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 

that  used  to  band  her  dark  tresses;  a  little  further,  her 
tiny  shoe ;  still  further  on,  a  lock  of  her  wavy  hair,  and  a 
mile  or  so  away,  alas !  I  saw  the  marks  of  blood  on  the 
leaves,  and  of  struggle,  and — and — but  I  can  say  no 
more,"  and  here  the  strong  man's  eyes  filled  with  tears, 
and  his  broad  and  brawny  breast  sobbed  convulsively. 
He  leaned  against  the  door-post,  and  his  eyes  closed  as  if 
trying  to  shut  out  the  dreadful  scene. 

Marie's  tears,  too,  fell  fast,  as  she  bowed  to  the  earth, 
her  hands  clasped  over  her  eyes.  At  last : 

"  And  did  you  find  no  further  trace  of  her  ?  "  she  softly 
and  sympathizingly  asked. 

"  Never  anything  more,  but  I  had  little  doubt  of  her 
fate  ;  I  lost  all  trace,  and  was  forced  reluctantly  to  return 
to  the  sad,  sad  duties  of  that  woeful,  wretched  night. 
Marie,  you,  as  a  loving  daughter,  can  imagine  my  feelings. 
Gathering  up  my  poor  mother's  and  sister's  remains,  I 
carried  them  to  the  trunk  of  a  huge  elm,  and  there,  with 
none  but  God  to  see,  dug  their  grave  and  buried  them 
close  together,  first  twining  their  arms  around  each  other's 
necks." 

"  Oh,  Edward,  say  no  more !  What  a  terrible  trial  it 
must  have  been ! " 

"  I  tell  you,  Marie,"  sternly  responded  her  companion, 
"  I  grew  a  man  that  single  night — and  it  was  a  dreary  and 
an  awful  night,  which  turned  all  the  hopeful  and  tender 
feelings  of  the  impulsive  boy  that  you  knew  me,  into 
the  hard  and  unforgiving  man  you  now  behold  me. 
Stretched  sobbing  on  the  freshly-made  grave,  I  took  a 
solemn  oath  against  the  cruel  savages  who  had  thus  piti 
lessly  robbed  me  of  all  remaining  hope;  and  if  Captain, 
Jack  has  won  any  fame  in  the  settlements  as  an  Indian* 
killer,  the  cursed  reds  have  themselves  to  thank  for  it" 


CHAPTER  XI. 

JACK    AND   MARIE   MAKE   DISCOVERIES. 

Her  grace  of  motion  and  of  look,  the  smooth 
And  swimming  majesty  of  step  and  tread, 
The  symmetry  of  form  and  feature,  set 
The  soul  afl oat,  even  like  delicious  airs 
Of  flute  or  harp. — MUinan. 

For  aught  that  ever  I  could  read ; 
Could  ever  hear  by  tale  or  history, 
The  course  of  true  love  never  did  run  smooth. 

Midsummer  Night's  Dream. 

"  WHAT,  Edw — Mr.  Percy,"  exclaimed  Marie,  in  great 
surprise,  "you  are  not  the  Captain  Jack  who  heads  the 
Rangers,  and  whose  prowess  is  told  and  sung  from  one  end 
of  the  frontier  to  the  other  ?  " 

"  I  am  called  differently  in  different  localities ;  but  now 
to  yourself,  Marie.  How,  in  the  name  of  all  that  is  good, 
came  you  and  your  old  father  into  these  leafy  solitudes,  in 
the  very  midst  of  these  savages,  and  in  a  time  of  war,  too  ? 
Has  he  forever  taken  leave  of  his  senses,  that  he  brings  you 
thus  into  the  very  jaws  of  danger?  What  can  be  his  busi 
ness  here  ?  " 

"  Oh,  just  as  ever,  and  as  you  might  suppose — nature. 
He  is  the  same  simple,  enthusiastic  naturalist  he  has  been 
since  I  and  since  you  knew  him,  only  his  passion  seems  to 
be  more  absorbing  and  exacting  with  growing  years  and 
increasing  opportunities.  He  chafes,  and  frets  and  pines 
•n  the  city ;  yearns  for  the  virgin  forest  and  its  free  life ; 
5  *  66 


66  OLD   FORT    DU^UESNE. 

for  its  sombre  shades,  its  glad  waters,  its  sweet  odors,  and 
its  purifying  influences ;  would  be  ever  chasing  some  new 
species  of  bird  or  animal ;  knows  no  delight  equal  to  that 
of  roaming  through  fresh,  untrodden  wilds — and,  indeed, 
he  has  so  infected  me  with  the  same  spirit,  that  I  believe 
I  feel  far  more  at  home  when  sojourning  in  nature's 
groves,  with  father  and  old  Dobbin,  than  when  in  the 
great  city  " 

"  And  how,"  asked  Jack,  "  has  he  escaped  the  savages, 
which  swarm  about  him  here?" 

"  Oh,  that's  the  strangest  part  of  it.  He  is  loved  and 
worshipped  by  them  almost  as  much  as  /love  and  worship 
him.  'Twould  go  hard  with  him  among  his  fellows,  if  any 
Indian  of  them  all  dared  molest  him.  At  first,  as  they 
daily  met  his  venerable  form  roaming  the  forest,  chasing  a 
butterfly  or  a  humming-bird — hunting  out  a  wild  flower  or 
a  wood  fern — letting  the  deer  and  turkeys  go  free,  that  he 
might  bring  down  some  little  innocent  bird  which  he  wished 
to  pencil,  he  was  looked  on  as  one  touched  in  his  head,  and 
as  it  is  a  universal  custom  among  the  Indians  to  respect 
and  protect  any  whom  they  think  the  Great  Spirit  haa 
thus  afflicted,  he  came  and  went  unquestioned  and  un 
harmed." 

"This  is,  indeed,  passing  strange;  lean  scarcely  credit 
it.  And  how  long  have  you  been  in  this  secluded  nook  ?  " 

"  Ever  since  May,  and  now  it  is  July.  Scarcely  had 
spring  opened  before  father  grew  restless  and  uneasy.  H»-> 
had  searched  and  hunted  all  the  eastern  part  of  the  State 
His  ambition  is,  as  you  well  remember,  to  classify  an6 
represent  on  paper  the  fauna  of  America.  He  made  mo 
learn  to  draw  and  paint,  and  prepare  birds  and  animals, 
and  having  exhausted  those  in  the  settlements,  he  yearned, 
with  a  wondrous  longing,  for  the  unexplored  wilds  west  of 
the  Alleghcnies.  He  soon  so  infected  me  with  his  spirit, 
<h«t  when  I  saw  his  very  life  almost  depended  on  his  coming 


JACK  AND   MAUIE    MAKE   DiSG'oVEiUES.  67 

West,  I  no  longer  resisted.  So,  loading  up  old  Dobbin 
with  a  few  necessaries,  we  crossed  the  Susquehanna,  and 
here  we  are.  Father  is  just  as  happy  as  a  bird  of  these 
woods,  and  as  free  too,  and  I  am  well  contented  with  seeing 
his  joy.  He  makes  his  long  daily  excursions  up,  down, 
and  across  the  rivers  that  join  at  the  fort  below ;  brings 
in  his  specimens  for  me  to  prepare  or  paint,  and  joyous 
is  the  day  for  him  when  some  rare,  or  new  species  of 
bird  or  animal  is  found.  Why,  I'm  almost  afraid,  some 
times,  so  glad  he  is.  His  passion  seems  so  deep  and 
engrossing-like,  as  if  it  touched  the  hidden  springs  of  his 
very  being." 

"  Strange,  passiug  strange,"  said  Jack,  "  and  yet  I  might 
have  known  it  of  him.  I  have  week  after  week  coursed 
the  forests,  ascended  mountains,  forded  or  swam  streams  in 
his  company,  and  never  did  I  see  so  artless,  or  unflagging 
an  enthusiast." 

"Yes,  that's  just  the  very  worH,"  smilingly  replied 
Marie.  "  He's  an  enthusiast  of  the  first  water,  and  his  pas 
sion  so  possesses  him  like  a  flame  of  holy  fire,  that  I  some 
times  think  it's  consuming  him — he  seems  more  fragile,  and 
self-absorbed  as  his  days  pass  among  these  solitary  woods. 

"  At  first,  as  I  said,"  continued  Marie,  pensively,  "  the  In 
dians  respected,  but  avoided  us,  but  soon  they  met  us  often 
in  our  excursions — for  Dobbin  and  I  frequently  accompa 
nied  father  in  his  longer  jaunts — and  came  to  know  us. 
They  then  visited  our  camp  here;  saw  me  preparing  or 
painting  what  father  shot ;  then  heard  him  on  the  flute, 
until  now  scarce  an  evening  passes  but  we  have,  as  to 
night,  some  of  the  French  officers  or  red  chiefs  up  from 
the  fort." 

"  And  the  brave-looking  French  officer  I  saw  sitting  and 
heard  singing  with  you  to-night,  who  was  he,  and  does  he. 
come  often?" 

"  Captain  Dumas ;  oh,  yf  »  v&r>\  <  ^n.    In  fact,  I  think  I 


68  OLD    FORT    DUQUESNE. 

am  becoming  quite  necessary  to  the  Captain's  happiness,'4 
Baid  Marie,  for  the  first  time  smiling  gaily,  and  with  an 
arch  expression  on  her  face,  very  becoming  to  her.  "  lie 
is  a  most  gallant  and  accomplished  gentleman,  and  singa 
delightfully,  and,  as  for  conversation,  he  excels  in  that — 
always  witty  and  full  of  spirit." 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  know.  I  heard  him  talk  and  sing  in  his 
foreign  lingo,"  and  a  cloud  passed  over  Jack's  face — he 
could  not  help  it.  "  What  does  he  talk  about.  I  didn't 
understand  his  confounded  gibberish." 

"  Why,  Edw — Mr.  Percy — that  is  rude  language.  You 
were  not  eaves-dropping,  were  you  ?  Listeners,  'tis  said, 
rarely  hear  any  good  of  themselves.  It  might  be  well  if 
you  did  understand  his  gibberish,  as  you  are  pleased  to  call 
our  musical  native  language." 

"But  what  does  he  talk  about  to  yout"  impatiently  re 
peated  Jack. 

"  Oh,"  archly  replied  Marie,  her  eyes  shyly  searching 
out  those  of  Jack  with  a  certain  hesitating,  embarrassed 
air  in  them  which  was  very  charming,  "  of  his  wife  Louise 
and  his  two  daughters,  in  Quebec.  He  grows  melancholy 
enough  at  his  enforced  absence  and  his  imprisonment  out 
in  the  fort.  He  has  made  me  his  confidante,  and  insists 
he  has  the  prettiest  wife  and  sweetest  children  in  America, 
so  that  I  feel  as  if  I  already  knew  them." 

A  blighter  look  comes  in  Jack's  face,  which  grows  softer 
and  handsomer  under  the  change.  He  appears  ten  years 
younger  than  an  hour  before,  and  as  if  he  would  almost 
give  a  Delaware  a  run  for  his  life  rather  than  drop  him 
with  a  pursuing  bullet.  Another  dark  shadow,  howevei, 
*s  he  pute  the  following : 

"  And,  Marie,  tell  me  what  has  become  of — of — of  your 
husband  ?  " 

"  What !  my — my  husband  ?  "  and  a  mirthful  and  musi 
cal,  but  Bather  constrained  little  laugh  rippled  from  her 


JACK  AND    MARIE   MAKE   DISCOVERIES.  69 

lips.     "And  who  told  you,  inquisitive  sir,  I  had  a  uua 
oan«l?" 

"  Oh,  no  one,"  rather  nervously  and  impatiently  re* 
sponded  Jack.  "I  only  judged  that  you  soon  would  hav« 
one,  from  the  scene  I  last  saw  you  engaged  in  ;  and — and 
•-have  you  never  married?"  looking  at  her  earnestly — 
almost  pleadingly. 

Marie  flushed  up  and  bit  her  lip.  A  brief  and  embar 
rassed  silence  followed,  when  thus  Marie,  rather  sarcasti 
cally  : 

"  And  so,  Edw — Mr.  Percy,  I  mean,  you  have  waited 
these  many  years  to  offer  your  singular  congratulations  to 
me  as  a  bride.  That  was  not  very  gallant  for  one  known  as 
the  very  pink  of  courtesy.  Did  I  not,  since  you  force  me  to 
recall  it,  as  a  girl  of  sixteen,  once  tell  you  as  an  ardent  and 
very  romantic  youth  of  twenty,  that  my  life  should  be  de 
voted  to  my  father,  who  required  all  my  loving  care  and 
affection  ?  What  I  said  I  meant,  and  so  have  lived." 

"  You  did  say  it,  but  you  talked  very  differently  in 
French  to  young  Monsieur  Dubois  the  next  evening." 

"  Oh,  did  I  ?  It  might  have  been  very  far  better  if  you 
had  studied  French  when  you  were  young.  'Twould  have 
saved  your  fiery  and  jealous  nature  from  some  hasty,  and 
allow  me  to  add,  foolish  actions." 

It  was  Jack's  turn  now  to  flush  up  and  bite  his  lip.  His 
swarthy,  weather-beaten  visage,  looked  disturbed.  There 
was  a  new  light  in  his  eyes,  and  a  stammer  on  his  tongue, 
as  he  essayed  to  speak.  But  the  words  died  on  his  lips. 
He  was  eloquently  dumb,  and  an  embarrassed  silence  fol 
lowed,  both  parties  looking  rather  uncomfortable;  but 
with  the  ready  address  of  a  nimble-witted  woman,  Mari« 
managed  to  get  out  of  the  difficulty  by  exclaiming: 

"  But  I  hear  father  coming.  He  will  be  astounded  U 
know  viat  a  visitor  \ie  has  to-night" 


CHAPTER  XII. 

fK    WHICH   A   RETROSPECT   IS  TAKEH. 

The  w  nd,  free  woods  make  no  man  halt  or  blind ; 

Cities  lob  men  of  eyes,  and  hands,  and  feet, 

Patching  one  whole  of  many  incomplete. 

Here,  life  the  undiminished  man  demands ; 

Sew  faculties  stretch  out  to  meet  new  wants ; 

What  nature  asks,  that  nature  also  grants. 

Here  man  is  lord,  not  drudge,  of  eyes,  and  feet,  and  hands, 

And  to  his  life  is  knit  with  hourly  bands. — Lowell. 

/Jut  nature,  with  a  matchless  hand,  sends  forth  her  noble  form, 
\nd  laughs  the  paltry  attributes  of  wealth  and  rank  to  scorn ; 
6Le  moulds  with  care  a  spirit  rare,  half  human,  half  divine, 
And  cries,  exulting,  "  who  can  make  gentleman  like  mine ?  " 

Eliza  Cook 

]T  may  be  as  well  just  here  to  go  back  a  little  in  our 
story,  and  state  what  never  did  or  could  have  come  out  in 
their  conversation.  Many  things  can  be  thought,  which 
it  would  not  be  proper  to  speak.  The  minds  and  memo 
ries  of  both  were  busy,  and  each  rapidly  recalled  the  past — 
their  separation  and  the  causes  of  it. 

Monsieur  de  Bonneville  was  a  professional  French  natu 
ralist,  and  a  most  ardent  enthusiast.  He  had  aspirations 
beyond  what  was  common  in  the  old  French  schools  of 
that  day,  and  was  most  ambitious  to  make  his  own  original 
researches  from  the  live  form,  and  not  follow  the  beaten 
path  of  studying  animated  nature  from  stuffed  collections. 
He  left  France  for  America  in  1726,  impelled  thereto  by 

in  irresistible  yearning  to  explore  the  untrodden  wilds,  and 
70 


IN    WHICH   A    RETROSPECT    13   TAKEN.  7i 

to  roam  the  virgin  forests  of  America ;  make  discoveries 
of  new  species  of  birds  and  animals ;  see  them  in  their  own 
native  haunts ;  study  there  their  habits  and  characteristics — 
their  loves,  chases,  battles,  gambols,  and  changeful  moods. 
This  to  him  was  the  very  poetry  of  life,  and  a  fascination 
which  only  enthusiasts  like  himself  could  appreciate. 

With  the  desire  to  note,  came  also  the  resolve  to  portray ; 
to  transfix,  as  with  an  enchanter's  pencil,  these  "  arrowy 
cleavers  of  the  air,"  as  they  glowed  past  in  all  the  gay 
tints  and  airy  graces  of  their  fresh,  fleeting  lives.  The 
spoils  of  each  day  would  be  immediately  transferred  to 
paper,  before  their  "  vesture  had  been  sullied,"  or  death 
had  faded  their  glows  and  tints  of  plumage.  Not  only  so, 
out  they  would  be  represented  in  the  very  attitude  of  life, 
and  on  the  very  reed,  twig,  or  bush,  where  death  had  stilled 
them.  Thus,  and  only  thus,  de  Bonneville  argued  with 
justice,  could  we  have  very  nature  itself,  and  not  her  coun 
terfeit  presentments. 

Debarking  at  Philadelphia,  and  having  thus  reverently 
and  lovingly  dedicated  himself  to  this  holy  priesthood  of 
nature,  de  Bonneville  patiently  prepared  himself  with  the 
greatest  care.  He  learned  to  draw  and  color.  He  soon 
made  the  acquaintance  of,  and  married  an  American  lady, 
who  died  when  Marie,  his  only  child,  was  but  thirteen 
years  old.  Mrs.  Percy,  a  dear  friend  of  the  deceased,  and 
a  widow  of  respectability,  took  charge  of  Marie  when  her 
father  was  absent  on  his  various  forest  expeditious  through 
out  the  colonies,  and  thus  she  was  thrown  into  relationship 
with  Edward  and  Emma,  and  Lucy  Percy,  then  a  mere 
child. 

Edward  was  a  bright,  ardent  and  impetuous  youth,  hasty 
and  violent  in  his  likes  and  dislikes ;  somewhat  moody, 
and  extravagantly  fond  of  hunting  and  roaming  the  for 
ests.  He  belonged  to  the  restless  "  wild-turkey  breed  "  of 
men,  so  common  in  that  day,  and  spent  much  of  the  last 


72  OLD   FORT   DUQUEBNE. 

two  years  with   de  Bonncville,  in  his  various   excursion! 
towards  middle  Pennsylvania. 

M.  de  Bonneville,  desirous  of  putting  into  some  useful 
shape  the  results  of  his  many  wanderings,  in  which  he  had. 
BO  long  braved  "  all  the  spite  of  the  wreckful  elements," 
and  having  most  carefully  educated  Marie  to  do  her  share 
of  the  artwork,  took  lodgings  of  his  own.  Edward  never 
knew  how  intimately  Marie  had  twined  herself  into  his 
young  life,  until  she  left  his  mother's  house.  Possessing 
one  of  those  hot  and  jealous  natures  which  would  not  brook 
two  passions  at  the  same  time,  his  love  for  Marie  became  a 
paramount  and  all-absorbing  devotion,  attended  by  fitful 
moods  and  jealousies. 

Marie's  love  for  him  was  probably  quite  as  deep  as  his 
for  her,  but  it  was  not  so  demonstrative — scarcely  even 
known  to  herself.  She  had  all  a  true  woman's  address, 
and  delicacy,  and  maidenly  reserve.  Not  very  long  after 
wards,  and  at  the  end  of  a  misunderstanding  in  which 
Edward  had  hotly  reproached  her  with  favoring  the  atten 
tions  of  a  Monsieur  Dubois — a  nephew  of  M.  de  Bonneville, 
who  had  lately  arrived  from  Paris  to  push  his  fortunes  in 
the  New  World — he  somewhat  violently  threw  himself  at 
her  feet,  and  passionately  declared  his  love. 

It  is  not  much  wonder,  in  the  temper  she  then  was,  that 
she  did  not  respond  as  ardently  and  as  fully  as  was  hoped. 
She  treated  the  matter  lightly ;  said  she  was  but  a  mere 
girl,  entirely  too  young  to  think  of  such  matters ;  and  be 
sides,  had  made  up  her  mind  to  love  none  but  her  father, 
and  devote  her  life  to  him  ;  he  was  almost  like  a  child  in 
many  things ;  was  alone,  and  growing  old,  and  required  all 
her  most  watchful  care. 

Edward  was  baffled  and  deeply  chagrined,  for  his  pas 
sion  was  an  all-devouring  one,  admitting  no  faint  or  di 
vided  worship.  He  grew  moody,  unhappy,  and  unreasona 
ble.  But  all  would  probably  have  righted  itself  in  time, 


IN   WHICH    A    UETROSrECT    18   TAKEN.  73 

had  he  not,  unluckily,  the  very  next  evening,  on  entering 
her  parlor  without  knocking,  quietly  come  upon  Mario 
and  young  Mr.  Dubois  together,  talking  French  in  a  most 
rapid  and  earnest  manner,  the  latter  on  his  knees,  and 
Marie  smilingly — and  as  his  jealous  eyes  saw,  or  thought 
they  saw — approvingly  raising  him  to  his  feet. 

Tbis  was  enough  for  Edward's  violent  and  impetuous 
natu/e.  The  shock  was  a  most  terrible  one,  for  a  racment 
completely  stunning  him.  He  had  occasionally  suspected 
Dubois  of  interference,  but  never  dreamed  of  its  having  gone 
to  such  a  pass.  He  did  not  know,  and  never  stayed  to  learn 
that  this  Dubois,  a  light  and  rather  trifling  character;  was 
enamored,  or  supposed  he  was,  of  an  entirely  different  lady, 
and  was  only  sportively  rehearsing  to  his  cousin  how  he 
intended  to  pay  his  successful  addresses  when  the  time 
should  come,  and-  requesting  her  to  act  the  part  of  his 
sweetheart. 

Edward — though  not  unseen  by  his  lady-love — rushed 
madly  from  the  house,  told  his  mother  all  in  the  violence 
of  despair,  was  deaf  to  her  entreaty,  and  insisted  on 
instantly  carrying  out  a  scheme  of  removal  to  the  West, 
which  they  had  often  talked  over. 

The  fond  mother,  proud  of  her  son,  and  almost  equally 
hurt  and  disappointed,  finally  consented,  and  a  few  days 
afterwards  they  quietly  took  their  departure  towards  the 
Susquehanna,  which  was  the  extreme  frontier  line  at  that 
time. 

k  We  have  seen  how  sadly,  how  shockingly,  that  pioneer 
dream  ended,  and  how  the  impetuous,  but  lovable  youth  of 
twenty  was,  under  this  double  grief,  transformed  into  the 
Btern,  moody,  and  revengful  man,  with  all  the  most  amiable 
qualities  of  his  character — which,  under  more  propitious 
circumstances,  would  have  blossomed  into  a  steady  and 
happy  life — turned  into  gall. 

Ten  years  had  since  elapsed.     Supposing  Marie   long 


f4  OLD    FORT    DUQUE8NE. 

since  married,  he  had  never  re-visited  the  city,  and  had 
never  once  heard  from  her  or  her  father. 

She  had  her  disappointment,  which  she  bore  patiently 
and  uncomplainingly,  as  only  woman  can,  merely  showing, 
by  an  increased  devotion  and  tenderness  to  her  father,  and 
by  a  total  seclusion  and  unremitting  attention  to  her  ar,t, 
that  a  shadow,  which  the  world  wot  not  of,  had  passed  over 
her  young  life,  blighting  though  not  crushing. 

But  time  passed  on.  She  was  but  a  girl,  naturally  hope 
ful  and  buoyant,  and  had  long  since  learned,  if  not  to  for 
get,  at  least  to  dwell  on  the  event  as  a  tender  memory  of 
the  past,  when  Edward's  sudden  and  mysterious  appear 
ance,  with  the  old  peculiar  signal  by  which  he  was  accus 
tomed  so  often  to  announce  his  approach,  gave  her  a 
terribly  rude  awakening,  and  her  whole  mind  was  in  a 
wonderful  tumult  and  agitation,  which  she  had  great  diffi 
culty  to  conceal,  and  which,  had  her  old  lover  once  sus 
pected,  would  have  stirred  and  gladdened  him  to  the 
inmost  fibre  of  his  being. 


CHAPTER  XIIL 

1>E  BONNEVILLE — MARIE — WAU-KI-NA. 

Mislike  me  not  for  my  complexion ; 

The  shadowed  livery  of  the  burnished  sun. — Shakspcar*. 

Underneath  that  face,  like  summer  ocean's — 
Its  lip  as  moveless,  and  its  cheek  as  clear — 

Slumbers  a  whirlwind  of  the  heart's  emotions, 
Love,  hatred,  pride,  hope,  sorrow — all  save  fear. — Hatttck. 

— AND  now  was  beard  old  M.  de  Bonneville's  excited, 
quavering  voice,  as,  approaching  the  hut,  he  hastily  cried 
out: 

"  Why,  Marie,  child  !  daughter !  what — what  means  this  ? 
Look  this  way,  quick !  quick !  As  I  was  about  approach 
ing  the  fire  to  renew  the  wood  for  the  night,  I  saw  that 
strange,  dusky  figure,  sitting  like  a  statue  on  the  log,  his 
painted  face  in  all  its  grim  and  hideous  savagery.  It 
turned  not  at  my  approach.  Tis  an  apparition — some 
baleful  spectre !  I  never  saw  the  Chief  before." 

"  Fear  not,  Marie,"  hurriedly  whispered  Jack.  "  I  ex 
pect  'tis  my  companion,  who  knows  he  has  nothing  here  to 
dread,  and  who  must  be  tired  of  waiting  on  me." 

"Be  not  alarmed,  dear  father;  I  think  this  unexpected 
visitor  here  can  explain  the  matter,  satisfactorily." 

"  What !  child,"  anxiously  exclaimed  de  Bonneville,  on 
entering  the  lodge  door,  and  catching  sight  of  Jack.  "  A 
stranger  here,  and  in  our  tent?  Marie,  daughter,  'twas 
thoughtless  of  you;  you  should  have  told  me  thi.s."  Tln-u 

75 


7H  OLL»   FORT   DUQUE8NE. 

stepping  forward  and  looking  Jack  calmly  in  the  eyes,  and 
with  a  noble  and  simple  dignity :  "  Who  and  what  are  you, 
sir,  aiid  what  is  your  errand  here,  that  y<  u  enter  my  simple 
hut  so  rudely  and  unceremoniously?  If  you  are  English — 
and  I  address  you  in  that  language  because  I  know  you  are 
not  French — tell  me  why  the  presence  of  this  lady  has  lot 
taught  you  better  manners." 

"  Why,  dear  father,  is  it  possible  you  do  not  know  an  old 
friend?" 

The  old  man  gazed  intently  into  Jack's  face,  scrutinized 
it  most  searchingly,  then  threw  his  eyes  rapidly  over  the 
tall  form,  and  shook  his  head.  It  was  no  wonder.  Great 
changes  had  taken  place  in  that  visage  and  frame  since  he 
lust  saw  it. 

"  I'm  getting  very,  very  old,  sir,  and  my  eyes  are  none 
of  the  best.  Pardon  me,  stranger,  but  I  don't — think — I 
ever  saw  you  before." 

"Why, yes,  Father,  and  hunted  with  him  many  and 
mauy's  the  day!  You  used  to  say  you  could  see  the 
birds  the  quickest,  but  Edward  Percy  was  the  only 
one  who  could  bring  them  down  without  spoiling  their 
plumage." 

"What!  Edward  Percy?"  said  the  old  man,  slowly, 
hesitatingly,  and  in  a  sort  of  daze.  "  Why,  Marie,  this  is 
a  cruel,  sorry  jest ;  you  mock  me,  daughter.  Edward  wad 
a  bright,  joyous,  eager  boy,  active  as  a  cat,  lithe  as  a 
leopard,  and  supple  as  a  panther ;  the  keenest  eye,  quickest 
foot,  and  truest  shot  I  ever  saw  before  or  since,  while  thia 
great,  dark  stranger  is — is — " 

"Edward  Percy,  at  your  service,  Monsieur  de  Bonne- 
fille,"  smilingly  exclaimed  Jack,  Marie's  eyes  fahly  beam 
ing  and  glistening  with  delight.  "  Time  works  sad  changes 
on  a  man,  sir,  especially  if  life  has  gone  heavy  with  him, 
and  I  presume  /  am  no  exception  to  the  rule." 

The  old  man's  luce  began  to  show  signs  of  recognition. 


DE   BONNEVILLE— MAItlK — WAU-KI-NA.  71 

The  voice,  smile  ami  decisive  manner  of  old  were  not  alt 
gone.  At  last  it  came,  full  and  free : 

"  Why,  Eddy,  this  in  a  miracle,  indeed.  Where  have  you 
beeu  these  long,  long,  lonely  years  ?  'Twos  uncivil  in  you  to 
leave  us  so.  Oh,  how  I've  missed  you  in  my  rambles;  but 
now  you've  come  to  join  me  again.  Oh,  Eddy,  what  trea 
sures  I  have  found  in  these  western  wilds.  Enough  for  a 
lifetime,  lad.  Scarce  a  day  passes  but  I  bear  some  new 
feathered  or  petted  prize  home  for  Marie  to  draw.  Why, 
just  look  here!"  and  he  hurried  over  to  his  large  books 
of  drawings  and  commenced  turning  over  the  leaves. 

"Father,"  sadly  whispered  Marie,  somewhat  "smily 
'round  the  lips,  but  teary  'round  the  lashes,"  "  thinks  you 
gtill  a  boy,  Mr.  Percy,  and  that  he  has  but  just  lately  par 
ted  with  you.  Bear  with  him  and  his  passion.  Time  has 
wrought  its  changes  on  him,  too,  as  well  as  on  you  and  me, 
but  he  is  the  same  brave,  gentle,  and  gallant  spirit  ag 
ever.  Nature  never  had  truer,  or  more  devout  wor 
shipper." 

"  Jack,"  as  we  must  continue  to  call  him,  went  over  to 
the  various  portfolios — covering  the  results  of  long  months 
of  rambles,  and  patient  workings — and  with  somewhat  of 
his  old  enthusiasm,  listened  to  the  "  old  man  eloquent,"  as, 
with  a  lover's  look  and  fondness,  he  introduced  him  to  each 
object  of  his  regard. 

They  both  had  a  dash  of  the  wilderness,  and,  as  it  were,  a 
fragrance  of  the  woods  about  them,  and  yet  how  different. 
And  Marie,  with  softened  eyes  and  beaming  countenance, 
would  join  in,  catching  the  fine  enthusiasm  of  the  hour, 
and  gradually  talking  of  old  and  of  present  times,  and  of 
what  father  and  she  had  done,  and  were  doing  and  going 
to  do.  Jack,  too,  was  closely  questioned  as  to  his  own  life, 
and  told  them  much  that  moved  their  wonder.  They 
would  all  doubtless  have  continued  there  till  dawn,  had 
not  Scarooyaddy  suddenly  made  his  appearance  at  th* 


78  OLD     FORT     DUQUESNK. 

lodge  door,  and  with  grave  and  dignified  face,  on  »hich 
surprise  and  curiosity,  too,  were  clearly  visible,  exclaimed  : 

"Captain  Jack,  'tis  growing  very  deep  into  the  night, 
and  we  have  a  full  hour  yet  before  we  can  reach  the  fort, 
and  much  long  work  to  do  there.  The  moon  is  down,  and, 
and — you  can  come  back  this  way  " — this  last  on  his  begin 
ning  to  take  in  the  situation. 

"  Forgive  me,  Chief,  I  was  rude  and  forgetful  to  keep 
you  waiting  so  long.  You  would  not  have  done  it,  I  know." 
Then  turning  to  Miss  de  Bonneville's  father : 

"  This,  sir,  is  doubtless,  the  apparition  which  disturbed 
you  awhile  since.  Know  him  now,  in  the  flesh  and  blood, 
as  the  truest,  bravest  and  most  faithful  redskin  that  ever 
trod  an  Indian  trail.  A  full-blooded  and  mighty  Chief;  a 
Sachem  of  the  Six  Nations — the  Half-King,  Scaroo- 
yaddy." 

"  Any  tried  friend  of  Edward  Percy,  be  he  white,  or 
red,  is  most  heartily  welcome  to  my  rustic  home,"  answered 
de  Bonneville  with  inimitable  grace  and  dignity. 

"  But,  Marie,"  exclaimed  Jack,  "  what  has  become  of 
the  little  Indian  maiden,  who  would  have  fairly  slain  me 
awhile  since  with  her  angry,  piercing  eyes.  She  has  all  the 
spirit,  and  the  beauty,  too,  of  a  panther's  kitten.  Despite 
her  indignant  flashes,  she  has  a  singular  interest  for  me. 
How  came  she,  too,  in  your  lodge,  or  is  this  a  part  of  the 
strange  dream  which  even  yet  enthralls  me  ?  " 

"  Oh,  Wau-ki-na,  '  the  bounding  fawn,'  you  mean.  She 
is  my  protegee,  and  glad  am  I  to  have  her  blithesome  com 
pany.  I  saw  her  but  a  moment  since,  on  her  couch  of 
skins,  in  a  troubled  sleep,  a  bright  flush  on  her  fair  cheek, 
and  the  name  of  Lucy  dwelling  on  her  lips.  A  more 
affectionate  child  I  never  saw.  I  already  love  her  like 
a  sister." 

"  But  who,  and  whence  is  she  ?  " 

*  Oh,  a  sprite  of  theee  woods,  I  believe.     Father  and  f 


DE   BONNEVILLE — AIAUIE — WAU-KI-NA.  79 

passed  through  Shannopinstowu  about  a  month  since,  and 
while  he  was  absent  across  the  Allegheny,  I  spent  the  day 
in  the  Delaware  village,  going  about  among  the  tents,  and 
making  acquaintance  with  the  squaws  and  maidens.  In 
the  afternoon  the  young  lasses  had  a  dance  on  the  grass, 
and  I  was  instantly  struck  with  this  beautiful  young  girl— 
at  her  grace,  her  fairness,  and  refinement.  She  was  a  sin 
gular  contrast  to  all  the  rest,  and  my  heart  went  right  out 
to  her,  as  I  believe  hers  did  to  me.  'Twas  a  real  case  of 
'  love  at  first  sight.'  " 

"  Yes,"  laughed  her  father,  "  so  much  so,  that  she  begged, 
almost  with  tears  in  her  eyes,  of  Captain  Pipe,  the  Dela 
ware  Chief  and  her  father — although  she  looks  about  as 
much  like  him  as  my  leggings  do  to  a  leaping  stag — that  he 
would  let  the  child  stay  with  her  for  the  summer,  in  our 
forest  home,  and  she  gained  her  point,  too,  and  they  are 
inseparable,  billing  and  cooing  like  two  turtle  doves." 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

JACK    AND  THE   HALF-KINO   CONTINUE   ""«EIR  SCOOT. 

O,  spirit  of  love,  how  quick  and  fresh  art  thou ! — Twelfth  Night 

If  he  be  iiot  in  love  with  some  woman,  there  is  no  believing  ol< 
signs :  he  brushes  his  hat  o'  mornings;  what  should  that  bode? 

Mack  Ado  About  Nothing. 

"  AND  now,"  said  Jack,  rising  and  leading  M.  de  Bon- 
neville  a  step  apart,  "  one  earnest  word,  my  dear  sir,  before 
I  go.  Do  you  not  know  this  is  no  safe  or  proper  place 
for  you  and  these  maidens  ?  Why,  Braddock  and  his  whole 
army  are  but  a  few  days  distant.  We  are  now,  as  I  told 
you,  out  on  a  scout  from  his  army.  Very  soon  these  woods 
will  be  swarming  with  savages  and  scouts,  of  both  French 
and  English.  Blood  once  drawn,  your  swarthy  friends 
will  turn  into  incarnate  fiends.  The  devils  will  brook  no 
neutrals  on  these  grounds.  On  one  pretence  or  another, 
they  will  invade  this  forest  sanctuary,  and  I  shudder  to 
think  what  may  happen." 

"  You  judge  them  too  harshly,  Edward.     I  have — " 

"  Not  a  whit ;  not  one  iota,  I  warn  you.     I  know  them 

all  from  moccasin  to  scalp-lock.     Poutiac,  mayhap,  would 

not  do  it,  nor  Athanase,  nor  Guyasutha,  but  their  cruel 

followers  would.     Now,  I  do  beg  you,  my    old  friend,  be 

advised  in  time.     Soon  as  my  scout  is  done  at  the  fort,  I 

will  be  back  early  to-morrow,  and  then  let  me  conduct  you 

and  Mario  safely  to  Braddock's  army ;  as  for  Wau-ki-na, 

send  her  hor^e  at   vice.     After  the  fort  is  taken,  you  can 

80 


JACK   AND  I1ALF-KING  CONTINUE   THEI11  SCOUT.        8J 

make  that  the  centre  of  your  naturalist  operations,  and  I 
will  most  gladly  join  you.  I'm  free  as  air,  can  go  where  J 
list,  and  would  glory  in  the  life." 

"  I  have,"  replied  the  anxious  father,  "  brooded  over 
this.  Should  anything  happen  my  darling  child,  I  could 
not  survive  it.  Do  you  really  think,  Edward,  there  is  dan- 
ger?'^ 

"  Yes,  yes,  of  the  most  imminent  kind !  I  would  not  for 
the  world  have  Marie  stay  here  one  minute  longer  than 
necessary.  Have  all  your  affairs  ready  to  move  on  an  in 
stant's  notice,  and  promise  me  to  go  with  us  to-morrow. 
Wont  you  promise?"  almost  pleaded  Jack. 

"  I  do,  most  solemnly,"  hastily  whispered  the  now  thor 
oughly-alarmed  father ;  "  and,  oh !  hasten  back !  'Tis  not 
for  myself  I  fear,  but  for  Marie." 

"Ah,  where  is  she?  "  hurriedly  exclaimed  Jack.  "  Marie, 
L  must  now  bid  you  good-night.  I  will  be  back,  if  all  go 
right,  by  sunrise  to-morrow,  and  you  and  your  father  must 
be  ready  to  go  with  me.  Don't  question  !  I  have  already 
loitered  here  much  too  long." 

"  And  where,  Mr.  Per — "  and  then  smilingly,  "  Edward, 
I  may  call  you,  as  of  old,  may  I  not? — where  would  you 
lead  us,  and  why  this  wondrous  haste  ?  " 

"  Oh,  your  father  will  explain  all ;  only  be  ready  ;  stir 
not  from  this  spot,  and — and — good-night ;  I  cannot,  must 
not  stay  longer,  'twould  be  weakness." 

He  extended  his  brawny  hand ;  her  delicate  .Ingers 
closed  in  its  roomy  palm  ;  their  eyes  met,  and  more  waa 
told  in  their  softened  glances  than  either  of  them  yet  knew, 
or  could  fairly  comprehend. 

"  And  where  do  you  go,  Edward  ?  Certainly  not  to  the 
fort ! "  anxiously  exclaimed  Marie. 

"  Oh,  we  are  not  now  on  a  fighting,  but  a  scouting  expe 
dition,"  said  Jack,  as  he  seized  his  trusty  rifle,  and  joined 
his  companion,  who  awaited  him  at  a  little  distance.  "  We 


82  OLD    FOIiT    DUQUESNE. 

will  be  as  cautious  as  foxes,  ready  to  run  at  tuc. first alftna 
Don't  fear  for  us.  Once  more,  good-night,  and  au  revoirt 
as  your  Captain  Dumas  would  say," 

The  two  hastily  strode  down  to  their  canoe,  shoved  it 
off,  and  were  out  into  the  Monongahela.  The  paddles  were 
industriously  plied.  Jack  remained  for  a  period  in  silent 
musing,  as  if  he  were  engaged  gathering  in  his  confused 
mind  the  scattered,  tangled  threads  of  what  had  just 
transpired,  and  then  began  to  smile  and  chat  almost  gaily, 
even  giving  out  an  occasional  low  laugh,  in  a  way  that  the 
Half-King  had  never  yet  heard,  and  which  greatly 
astonished  him.  Finally,  he  was,  regardless  of  all  pru 
dence,  actually  breaking  out  into  a  snatch  of  camp  song, 
when  the  Chief  could  stand  it  no  longer. 

"  My  brother  is  gay  to-night.  He  is  no  longer  the  In 
dian's  Slack  Rifle,  but  the  maiden's  Warbling  Flute.  What 
has  the  Old  Medicine  in  the  tent  given  Captain  Jack,  the 
Ranger,  to  turn  him  into  a  boy  again ;  or  maybe,"  he 
meaningly  continued,  "it  was  the  Young  Medicine  girl 
who  has  stolen  away  my  brother's  senses.  The  'wood 
thrush '  has  a  pleasant  warble,  and  her  face  is  very  sweet  to 
look  on." 

"  Why,  Yaddy,  I  do  feel  to-night  as  if  a  great  load  were 
lifted  from  my  heavy  heart.  I  have  talked  with  old  and 
dear  friends  of  my  youth ;  and  what's  more,  we  must  see 
them  again  to-morrow,  and  lead  them  back  to  the  army. 
Wont  the  strutting,  pompous  old  General  be  stunned  at 
the  kind  of  prisoners  we  bring  him  ?  but  now  we  are  near- 
ing  the  fort,  I  must  grow  sober  again.  Let  us  float  quietly 
amid  stream.  The  moon  is  now  clouded,  to  be  sure,  but 
still,  'twould  be  safer  to  keep  out  a  little.  I'm  now  Jack, 
the  Ranger,  again." 

They  floated  on,  and  on,  keeping  a  most  wary  lookout 
on  either  shore,  and  listening  with  strained  ear  for  the  dip 
of  paddles,  or  for  any,  even  the  faintest,  sound  from  the 


JACK  AND  HALF-KING  CONTINUE  TilEIR  SCOUT.        83 

dark,  sombre,  solemn  forests  which  crowded  down  to  the 
very  waters. 

None,  however,  were  heard,  and  now  the  dim  outlines  of 
the  stockades  of  Old  Fort  Duquesue  could  be  faintly  seen 
above  the  steep  banks,  and  the  flickering  lights  from  dying 
camp  fires  around.  It  was  about  one  of  the  morning.  The 
canoe  was  allowed  to  float  noiselessly  along  past  the  fort, 
until  it  struck  the  swift  current  of  the  Allegheny.  The 
paddles  were  then  cautiously  and  quietly  dipped  in  the 
water,  and  the  light  birch,  obedient  to  the  slightest  motion, 
turned  up  the  Allegheny. 

Close  observations  were  made  along  the  shore  for  a  full 
half  mile,  and  all  the  canoes  and  batteaux  counted,  to  find 
out  how  many  had  lately  come  down  from  French  Creek 
Happily,  not  a  wandering  canoe  was  encountered.  No 
sentinel's  challenge  broke  the  stillness  of  the  night.  The 
enemy,  both  in  and  out  of  the  fort,  expecting  no  immediate 
danger,  was  sunk  in  the  deepest  repose. 

They  then  turned  back  on  their  course,  and  continued 
up  the  Monongahela,  but  closer  to  the  shore  than  before. 
All  was  quiet  as  the  grave.  Nothing  heard  but  an  occa 
sional  loon,  the  owl's  gloomy  hoot,  or  a  prowling  wolf's 
howl,  answering  to  one  on  the  opposite  bank. 

About  a  mile  up  this  river  they,  with  exceeding  c&ution, 
impelled  their  light  birch  into  a  little  cove,  and  waited 
and  waited,  in  perfect  silence,  until  near  three,  when  all 
should  be  wrapped  in  deepest  sleep.  They  then  stole  out 
of  the  canoe,  rifles  at  rest  and  tomahawks  ready  for  instant 
service.  Clambering  up  the  rugged  bank,  they  entered  the 
dark  forest,  avoided  as  best  they  could  the  entangling 
vines  and  retarding  underbrush,  glided  stealthily  from 
tree  to  tree,  and  gradually  approached  the  circle  of  In 
dian  fires. 

These  they  counted.  Not  even  a  dog  to  give  the  alarm. 
They  were  not  coming  on  an  Indian  village  now, but  cantpc 


54  OLD    FORT    DUQUESNE. 

of  '  oraves  "  out  on  the  war  path.  As  expected,  no  senti- 
nuls  were  out.  The  ludians  were  too  constantly  aud  cor 
rectly  advised  of  the  exact  daily  progress  of  Braddock's 
army  to  apprehend  the  slightest  danger  yet,  and  all  was  a 
death-like  silence. 

Our  reckless  scouts  glided  about  like  spectres  from  oue 
fire  to  another,  always  keeping  in  the  shadows  of  the  huge 
oaks  and  buttonwoods  which  grew  thickly  about.  They 
carefully  completed  their  observations,  and  just  as  dawn  was 
breaking,  gained  the  edge  of  what  is  now  called  Grant's 
Hill.  Here  they  rested  for  half  an  hour,  and  then  skirting 
the  hill,  were  making  for  the  river  and  their  canoe,  when, 
as  has  already  been  stated,  they  suddenly  came  upon  a 
French  officer  out  on  an  early  hunt. 

Then  followed  the  Half-King's  unlucky  shot,  by  which 
all  ihe  plans  so  carefully  laid  by  Jack  were  deranged,  and 
which  led  to  the  exciting  chase  and  escape  across  the  Mo- 
uongahela  river,  and  right  under  the  very  guns  of  the  fort. 
It  was  an  untoward  blunder,  which  put  both  parties  of 
Bcouts  in  extreme  peril.  (See  Appendix  G.) 

Our  readers  are  now  masters  of  Jack's  secret ;  can  appre 
ciate  how  keen  must  have  been  his  disappointment  at  not 
being  able,  as  intended,  to  go  straight  back  to  de  Bonne- 
rille,  and  are  prepared  to  follow  him  and  the  Half-King, 
in  their  visit  to  old  King  Shingiss,  thence  to  reach  Marie 
and  her  father  by  a  roundabout  course,  and  one  which  lay 
right  through  their  swarming  foes,  and  which  was  beset 
with  the  most  imminent  perils. 


CHAl'Elt  XV. 


VISIT   TO   OLD    KIVO    SfllNQIfVi. 

Before  these  fields  were  shorn  and  tilled, 

Full  to  the  brim  our  rivers  flowed  ; 

The  melody  of  waters  filled 

The  fresh  and  boundless  wood  ; 

And  torrents  dashed,  and  rivulets  played, 

\.nd  fountains  sported  in  the  shade.  —  Bryant. 

THE  reunited  scouting  party,  following  Captain  Jack'i 
suggestion  of  walking  ostentatiously  along  the  cone  of 
Coal  Hill,  in  order  to  mislead  the  many  watchers  from  the 
fort,  had  no  sooner  gained  the  favoring  obscurity  of  the 
first  woods,  than  it  turned  abruptly  off. 

Captain  Jack  and  the  Half-King  immediately  doubled 
on  their  course  and  hurried  down  the  stream  —  but  along 
the  crest  of  the  hill  —  at  a  free,  swinging  gait,  which  soon 
brought  them  to  a  steep  and  rugged  declivity  overlooking 
the  valley  through  which,  what  is  now  culled  "Saw  Mill 
Run  "  brawled  its  tortuous  way. 

Down  this  headlong  steep,  aiding  their  descent  by  vines 
and  brush,  and  without  pausing  long  to  pick  their  steps, 
they  plunged.  Crossing  the  run,  they  sought  the  covert  of 
the  river  bank,  and  sheltered  behind  its  dense  and  luxu 
riant  foliage,  and  feeling,  for  the  first  time,  comparatively 
safe,  they  paused  to  fetch  a  long  breath. 

The  sun  was  now  well  up  in  the  heavens  ;  the  air  was 
fresh  and  balrny  ;  the  fragrance  of  the  lush  and  abundant 
tu  n  rose  like  morning  incense  from  all  sides,  ami 

85 


86  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNB. 

had  not  their  situation  been  so  full  of  grave  peril,  and  their 
long  life  in  the  forest  made  such  scenes  a  daily  occurrence, 
the  two  scouts  might  well  have  paused  to  admire  the  beau 
tiful  scene. 

But  more  anxious  thoughts  filled  their  minds.  The 
»tuation  was  one  of  imminent  danger,  to  escape  from  which 
required  all  the  fertile  resources  of  a  ready  wit  and  an 
experience  of  many  years  of  backwoods  life. 

Even  as  they  gazed  toward  Fort  Duquesne,  to  note  what 
new  steps  were  there  being  taken,  five  canoes,  filled  with 
young  warriors  engaged  in  animated  conversation,  shot 
close  by  them.  These  were  all  alive  with  expectation,  and 
were  excitedly  speculating  on  the  cause  of  the  late  commo 
tion  at  the  fort.  Our  scouts,  crouched  behind  some  water- 
willows  and  the  thick  undergrowth  which  skirted  the 
jtream's  margin,  giving  it  such  a  rich  broidery  of  emerald, 
sould  almost  have  touched  hands  with  the  Delaware 
paddlers. 

"  Ha!  ha !  Chief,"  whispered  Jack,  "  we've  shook  up  old 
t  hingiss'  camp,  sure !  He's  scarce  enough  men  left  to  draw 
ais  nets  to-day.  Those  younkers,  I'll  wager,  have  had  little 
rime  to  digest  their  morning  venison  ;  but  their  room  is 
better  than  their  company.  It  couldn't  have  happened 
better.  How  long  are  we  yet  from  the  lodge  of  the  grim 
old  Delaware  ?  "  No  answer.  "  I  say,  old  fellow,  why — " 
Jack  turned  abruptly,  and  saw  Scarooyaddy  leaning 
against  a  tree,  limp  and  pale,  an  expression  of  anguish  on 
his  face. 

"  Why,  whatever's  the  matter  with  the  Chief?  I  see  it 
all.  Let  an  Indian  alone  for  hiding  his  pain.  The  old 
fox  would  as  soon  whimper  under  a  Catawba's  torture  as 
let  me  know  how  his  wound  hurts  him. 

"  Why,  Chief,  how  goes  it  ?    Let  me  see  your  arm." 

Jack  took  up  the  dangling  limb  tenderly,  and  carefully 
examined  it.  The  blood  was  pumping  out  quite  freely — 


THE   VISIT   TO   OLD    KING   SHINGISS.  87 

evidently  no  bones  broken,  but  the  bullet  had  made  an 
ugly  hole,  and  had  done  its  bloody  work  among  the  Oneida's 
flesh  and  arteries. 

"Come!  come!  Chief.  This  has  gone  too  far.  You've 
lost  enough  good  blood  to  rejoice  a  Huron.  Stay  till  I 
bind  this  handkerchief  around, — so ; — now  come  to  the 
water's  edge,  till  I  dash  some  in  your  face,  and  take,  too,  a 
little  inwardly.  'Tis  not,  as  the  Irish  rum  traders  would 
say,  so  pinetrating  or  sarching,  quite,  as  '  fire-water,'  but 
'twill  do  on  a  fetch.  Drink  from  this  bass-wood  leaf. 
'Twill  do  you  good,  man.  Now;  don't  you  feel  better 
already?" 

"  Scarooyaddy  thanks  his  good  brother.  'Tis  nothing. 
Come !  I'll  show  you  the  path  to  the  Delaware's  lodge. 
When  the  chain  of  friendship  was  kept  bright  and  the 
road  ever  open,  I  was  often  in  the  old  Delaware's  wigwam  ; 
but  now  a  black  cloud  has  come  between  us,  which  I  must 
blow  away." 

"  And  what  are  you  going  to  say  to  old  Shingiss,  Chief? 
He  has  clearly  taken  sides  with  the  French.  Do  you  think 
it  safe  for  us  to  defy  him  in  his  own  lair?  Mind  ye,  he's 
of  a  devilish  ugly  temper,  and  as  hard  and  crooked  as  the 
gnarl  of  an  oak." 

"Scarooyaddy,"  answered  the  Chief  with  dignity,  "will 
order  him  to  take  up  the  hatchet  against  the  French.  / 
care  not  who  he's  for  or  against  The  Delawares  are  now 
women  and  wear  petticoats.  The  Six  Nations  conquered 
them  long,  long  years  ago.  They  made  them  move  back 
first  from  the  Delaware,  then  from  the  Susquehanna,  and 
we'll  drive  them  still  further  to  the  setting  sun,  if  they  for 
get  who  are  their  masters." 

"  Braw  words,  Chief;  but  have  a  care — have  a  care  !  The 
Delawares  are  a  proud  and  warlike  people,  and  it  is  far 
from  the  Allegheny  to  the  Council  Chamber  at  Onondago. 
If  I  mistake  not,  they  have  been  long  restive  under  yon? 


S8  OLD    FORT    bLTQUl-MNE. 

rule,  and  seek  a  pretext  tc  throw  off  the  lroquoisr  yoke." 
(See  Appendix  H.) 

While  thus  engaged  in  conversation,  they  came  to  the 
mouth  of  the  large  creek  called  after  Peter  Ch artier,  the 
noted  half-breed  French  spy  and  Indian  trader.  Here 
they  found  a  number  of  fishing  canoes.  Jumping  into  th« 
nearest,  it  took  but  one  shove  to  land  them  on  the  other 
side,  and  they  straightway  proceeded  along  the  bend  which 
sweeps  around  the  foot  of  what  was  then  called  Chartiers, 
but  now  Brunot's  Island. 

Near  the  jutting  promontory  at  present  known  as 
"McKee's  Rocks,"  and  on  one  side  of  the  commanding 
knoll,  where  the  celebrated  Ohio  Company  had  once 
marked  out  as  even  a  more  fitting  place  to  build  a  fort 
and  found  a  settlement,  than  the  forks  of  the  Ohio,  was  a 
collection  of  bark  huts,  where  Shingiss,  king  of  the  Dela- 
wares,  lived.  (See  Appendix  I.) 

And  a  most  carefully-selected  site  it  was — few  more  pic 
turesque  or  more  commanding  on  the  Ohio — and  our  scouts 
could  not  refrain  from  pausing,  hurried  as  they  were  and 
urgent  as  was  their  business,  to  cast  an  admiring  and  com 
prehensive  glance  over  the  salient  land  and  water  feature- 
of  the  beautiful  scene  before  and  around  them. 

Directly  in  front  was  the  long  and  densely-wooded  island 
now  everywhere  known  as  Brunot's,  dividing  the  broad 
current  of  the  Ohio,  yet,  in  such  fashion  that  the  volume 
of  the  main  stream  seemed  no  whit  diminished,  while  the 
other  had  cut  deeply  into  the  land,  curving  around,  as 
stated,  in  a  beautiful  sweep.  Near  the  end  of  this  island 
came  in  Chartier's  creek,  running  through  a  rich  and 
heavily-timbered  "  bottom." 

Along  the  course  which  the  scouts  had  travelled,  the  hills 
rose  high  and  precipitous,  leaving  but  a  narrow  ledge  be 
tween  them  and  the  river;  but  here  they  softened  down 
Into  gentler  forms,  and  receded  from  the  water  in  a  seriei 


THE    VISIT   TO    OLD    KINO    BHINUI88.  89 

of  billowy  slopes,  covered  from  their  tops  almost  to  the 
very  river's  edge,  with  the  most  vividly  gre-vn  and  bright 
foliage. 

Kight  back  of  the  little  cluster  of  cabins  and  the  smoul 
dering  fires  around  them,  was  a  broad  level  of  rich  and 
densely-wooded  bottom-land,  flanked  by  the  isolated  aud 
beautiful  knoll,  on  top  of  which  can  yet  be  seen,  for  miles, 
a  prominent  Indian  mound.  On  the  shingle  in  front  were 
-Jrawu  up  a  dozen  or  so  of  birch  and  pine  canoes. 

Altogether,  a  right  royal  place  for  a  king's  residence. 
It  had  evidently  been  chosen  with  care  aud  taste.  It  was, 
at  the  same  time,  sheltered,  commanding,  picturesque,  and 
with  unsurpassed  fishing  and  hunting  grounds  all  about 
Even"  to  this  present,  that  pleasant  reach  of  shore  forms 
one  of  the  most  favored  excursions  from  Pittsburgh. 

In  the  midst  of  the  group  of  cabins,  stood  one  much 
more  spacious  and  pretentious  than  the  rest.  The  frail 
door  was  drawn  to,  but  curious  sounds,  as  of  chanting, 
could  be  heard  coming  from  it.  No  human  visible  but  a 
squaw,  and  an  Indian  maiden  at  a  little  distance,  coming 
down  the  hill  path  at  the  side.  All  the  fighting  men,  dis 
turbed  by  the  great  guns  from  the  fort,  had  gone  up  the 
Ohio. 

The  Half-King,  leading  the  way  as  one  knowing  bis 
ground,  and  closely  followed  by  Jack,  strode  hastily  to  the 
door,  tapped,  and  exclaimed,  with  great  directness,  in  the 
Delaware  dialect : 

"  If  King  Shingiss  is  within,  Monecatootha  and  '  La 
Carrabine  Noir '  are  at  his  door,  waiting  a  welcome." 

Had  a  bomb-shell  fallen  in  their  midst,  it  could  not  have 
caused  a  greater  commotion  among  the  inmates.  There 
was  a  cry,  a  rush,  a  click  of  rifle  cocks,  and  the  door  was 
flung  open  by  a  short,  sturdy,  and  determined-looking 
chief,  past  the  middle  age,  and  with  as  piercing  and  glit 
tering  an  eye  as  was  ever  placed  in  an  Indian  forehead. 


90  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 

With  rifle  at  cock,  he  seemed  uncertain  what  to  do— 
shoot,  or  club  the  reckless  intruders.  He  was  evidently 
taken  wholly  at  unawares — not  a  sound  or  a  single  note 
of  alarm,  and  this  may  be,  for  what  he  knew,  the  advance 
of  Braddock's  army.  The  name  of  The  Black  Rifle  was  a 
potent  spell  in  those  days.  Of  him,  Shingiss  had  often 
heard,  but  never  before  seen. 

The  old  king,  speechless  and  quivering  with  excitement, 
gazed,  or  rather  glared,  first  at  one,  and  then  the  other. 
His  eyes  fairly  shot  fire.  A  fragrance,  as  of  burnt  herbs 
and  shrubs,  escaped  from  the  open  door,  and  behind  the 
form  of  Shingiss  could  be  dimly  seen  other  chiefs,  in  atti 
tudes  fixed  and  attentive.  Our  scouts  stood  calm  and 
resolute,  but  with  rifle  on  shoulder,  denoting  peaceful  in 
tent. 

At  last  Shingiss,  endeavoring  to  conceal  his  surprise  and 
indignation  at  the  unseemly  interruption  to  the  incanta 
tions  evidently  going  on  within,  broke  silence : 

"  Monecatootha  is  a  very  rash  chief,  thus  to  bring  him 
self,  and  his  friend,  The  Black  Rifle" — and  here  he  cast 
another  scrutinizing  but  respectful  glance,  at  the  foe  of  his 
tribe — "into  the  very  camp  of  the  Delawares.  What 
means  it  ?  " — glancing  along  the  route  they  came — "  war, 
or  peace?  Are  you  alone,  or  have  you  a  following? 
Surely  " — gazing  inquiringly  into  the  Half-King's  eyes — 
•'  the  noise  of  the  big  guns  can't  mean  that  the  English 
have  taken  the  fort?"  and  he  again  raised  his  rifle. 

"  Stay  your  hand,  king !  We  came  straight  from  Brad- 
Jock,  but  he  is  far  from  here.  The  hatchet  is  not  yet  dug 
up  between  us,  and  we  mean  peace,  unless  you  mean  war." 

"  Shingiss  thought  his  young  men  could  not  so  deceive 
him.  One,  two,  three,  four  days  before  the  English  come. 
We  have  out  many  eyes  and  ears.  Enter  Shingiss'  lodga 
if  you  come  with  '  speech-belts.' " 


CHAPTER  XVL 

A  COUNCIL  OF  DELAWARE  CHIEFS- 

They  waste  us,  ay,  like  April  snow  ; 

In  the  warm  noon  we  shrink  away 
And  fast  they  follow,  as  we  go 

Toward  the  setting  day ; 
Till  they  shall  fill  the  land,  and  we 
Are  driven  into  the  western  sea. — Bryant. 

In  thy  breast  there  springs  a  poison  fountain, 
Deadlier  than  that  where  bathes  the  Upas  tree ; 

And  in  thy  wrath,  a  nursing  cat-o-mountain 
Is  calm  as  her  babe's  sleep,  compared  with  thee. 

Ilalleck. 

THE  old  king,  with  a  meaning  and  sarcastic  smile,  stood 
aside  for  them  to  enter. 

It  was  our  scouts'  turn  now  to  be  surprised.  Jack  only 
found  himself  in  presence  of  three  Delaware  chiefs,  whom 
he  did  not  know ;  but  the  Half-King  immediately  recog 
nized  them  as  King  Beaver,  brother  and  equal  to  Shingiss ; 
Kateuskund,  a  noted  sachem  and  counsellor,  and  Killbuck, 
a  great  captain  and  conjurer — all  Delawares.  Schooled,  as 
it  was  his  nature  and  education  to  be,  he  could  not  refrain 
an  exclamation  of  surprise. 

"  Monecatootha, — a  little  bird  has  sung  to  me, — takes  the 
place  of  Tannecharison,  who  has  gone  back  to  the  Great 
Spirit.  If  the  new  Half-King  brings  speeches  from  our 
uncles  at  Onondago  "  (meaning  the  Six  Nations),  "  he  will 
be  glad  to  have  so  many  great  chiefs,  whom  he  knows,  to 
them." 

91 


92  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 

"  It  is  well,"  replied  Scarooyaddy  or  Monecatootha,  with 
dignity.  "  I  offer  you  this  belt,"  producing  a  broad  belt 
of  wampum,  with  eight  diamond  figures  beautifully  worked 
in.  "  The  Six  Nations  have  heard  a  bad  tale  that  the 
Delawares  and  Shawanos  have  taken  up  the  hatchet  against 
.the  English  ;  and  the  great  war  chief,  Braddock,  has  sent 
me  to  you  that  I  may  know  these  tales  are  lies,  and  to 
brighten  the  chain  of  friendship  which  has  so  long  tied  us 
together,  and  to  smoke  a  new  pipe  of  peace  with  that  good 
old  tobacco  which  the  Friends  [Quakers]  send  you.  What 
answer  shall  I  carry  back  ?  " 

"And  what  says  The  Black  Rifle?"  politely  put  in 
Shingiss.  "So  great  a  white  'brave'  should  have  a  voice 
in  this  council.  Does  he,  too,  carry  a  new  story  of  peace 
on  his  tongue?" 

"  Even  so.  The  English  are  but  a  few  marches  off,  with 
an  army  of  trained  '  braves,'  numerous  as  the  leaves  in  the 
forest.  They  will  take  the  fort  at  the  De-un-da-ga  (the 
forks),  and  drive  the  French  into  the  lakes.  All  who  fight 
with  them  will  be  crushed." 

"Before  we  give  answer,"  searchingly  queried  Shingiss, 
M  will  my  brothers  tell  us  what  made  the  big  guns  fire  this 
morning  ?  My  young  men  have  not  yet  come  back  to  tell 
me." 

The  two  scouts  looked  at  each  other.  They  had  not  ex 
pected  this  question  ;  when  thus  Jack  : 

"  Why,  yes,  Chief;  I'm  white,  and  am  not  here  to  keep 
back  the  truth,  whether  it  tells  for  or  against.  They  fired 
at  us,  and  that  was  the  cause,"  pointing  to  the  Half  King's 
girdle,  where  hung  the  French  officer's  scalp;  "  but  if  I 
must  say  it,  so  far  I  think  we've  had  the  best  of  the  fight, 
although  your  old  friend  here  has  been  winged  a  little,"  and 
he  pointed  to  Scarooyaddy's  arm,  stiffened  with  blood. 

This  crisp  and  double-shotted  little  speech  excited  some 
interest  among  the  chiefs,  who  cast  quiet  but  meaning  looks 


A    COUNCIL   OF   DELAWARE   CHIEFS.  93 

at  each  other,  but  said  never  a  word.     It  was  fortunate  the 
scalp  was  a  French  and  not  a  Delaware  one. 

"  Then  my  brothers  come  out  as  spies,  as  well  as  to  carry 
peaceful  songs,"  calmly  continued  the  old  Delaware.  "  An 
other  question  :  If  the  great  white  chief  means  so  well  to 
the  Delawares  and  Shawanos,  and  their  friends,  the  Iro- 
quois,  why  has  he  hired  so  many  hundreds  of  our  old  ene 
mies,  the  Catawbas  and  Cherokees,  when  he  might  have 
had  us  f  Does  he  look  two  ways  ?  Has  he  a  cleft  tongue, 
like  a  snake?" 

•Now,  Chief,"  hurriedly  answered  Jack,  "who  told  you 
that?  It's  all  stuff  and  nonsense.  I  will  not  deny  that  he 
ditt,  through  Gist's  son,  bargain  with  some  of  those  far- 
South  Indians,  but  'twas  before  he  knew  what  a  blunder  it 
would  be,  and  because  he  wouldn't  take  advice.  He  hasn't 
one  Carolina  or  Florida  red  with  him — not  one.  Besides, 
how  many  western  tribes  have  the  French  hired  to  take 
pnft  against  us?  Whose  camp-fires  are  now  about  the 
fort?  tell  me  that,  Shingiss  !" 

"My  brother  talks  from  the  heart  and  is  not  fork- 
tungued,"  replied  Shingiss,  his  respect  for  Jack  evidently 
increasing  each  moment.  "  Let  Kateuskund  say  what  an 
swer  Monecatootha  shall  carry  back  with  him." 

The  chiefs  exchanged  a  few  meaning  looks  and  words 
together,  when  Kateuskund,  the  oldest,  arose,  and  with 
great  calmness  and  dignity  said,  first  pointing  to  some 
scalps  in  one  corner,  which  were  stretched  on  small  hoops 
•x>  dry : 

"  Mouecatootha  sees  there  that  his  speech-belt  is  too  late. 
t  return  it  to  him.  We  don't  tramp  it  under  foot,  but  we 
don't  want  it,  and  wont  have  it,"  handing  back  the  belt. 
"  Our  young  braves  have  been  on  the  war-path  ever  since 
the  pale-face  army  left  Cucucbetuc  [Cumberland].  The 
Six  Nations  are  not  so  foolish  as  you  may  suppose.  We 
de  not  know  what  they  say  to  ymi,  my  brother,  but  wo  do 


94  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 

know  they  fear  tLe  English  want  to  take  all  our  and  then 
lauds.  Some  of  them  are  now  with  us.  We  have  taken 
up  the  hatchet  for  Ouontio  [the  French].  They  have 
always  treated  us  well,  and  given  us  all  we  want,  and  the 
Great  Spirit  goes  with  us." 

Then  Ring  Beaver : 

"  The  Shawanos  gave  us  the  hatchet  from  the  French, 
and  have  persuaded  us  to  strike  the  English.  Blood  has 
been  shed  ;  there  are  the  scalps  of  your  marching  warriors ; 
and  it  is  too  late  to  go  back.  Why  don't  the  English  and 
French  fight  their  battles  in  their  own  land,  or  on  the 
water?  This  country  was  given  to  us  by  the  Great  Spirit, 
and  neither  French  nor  English  shall  have  it — not  one 
*bot.  As  soon  as  the  English  are  driven  away,  we  will  not 
suffer  the  French  to  stay  here.  They  have  promised  us  to 
go  back  to  Canada.  If  not,  we'll  drive  them  back  with 
bloody  switches.  All  this,"  stretching  his  arm  majestically 
in  a  broad  sweep,  "  is  the  red  man's  land,  given  us  by  the 
Great  Spirit ;  we'll  live  and  die  here.  Be  warned  in  time. 
King  Beaver  has  spoken." 

Then  Killbuck,  more  fiercely  and  vehemently : 

"  We  know  well  what  the  English  want.  Your  o\vn 
traders  say  that  you  intend  to  take  all  our  lands,  and  de 
stroy  us.  It  is  you  who  have  begun  the  war.  Why  do 
you  come  here  to  fight  ?  How  have  you  treated  the  Dela- 
wares  ?  You  know  how  the  Iroquois  deceived  us  into  acting 
as  peace  mediators ;  how  they  shamed  us,  and  took  our  arms ; 
put  petticoats  on  us  ;  called  us  women,  and  made  us  move 
three  times  away  from  our  homes.  And  why  ?  Because 
the  English  paid  them  a  few  beads  and  blankets  and 
paint,  and  when  their  senses  were  stolen  away  with  fire 
water,  they  sold  our  lands ;  but  we  tell  you  this  must  cease 
tV^e  are  no  onger  women,  but" — striking  his  breast — "  men 
— tr>en  who  can  strike  and  kill  and —  " 


A   COUNCIL   OF    DELAWARE   CHIEFS.  95 

"Yes!"  hissed  out  old  Sbingiss,  springing  to  his  feet, 
rising  to  his  full  stature,  his  wicked  little  eyes  flashing  a 
venomous  fire.  "  We  are  men,  and  no  longer  women !  We 
have  thrown  off  the  petticoat  of'the  squaw,  and  have  seized 
the  keen  tomahawk  of  the  '  brave  !'  I  speak  " — stamping 
his  foot — "  as  one  standing  on  his  own  ground.  Why 
do  you  come  to  fight  on  our  land  ?  Keep  away  I  both 
French  and  English.  The  English  are  poor  and  stingy. 
They  give  us  nothing  but  a  few  beads,  some  bad  rum,  and 
old,  worn-out  guns,  which  kick  back  and  break  to  pieces ; 
and  their  traders  cheat  us  and  fool  our  squaws  and  maid 
ens.  But  I  tell  you  we  wont  suffer  it  longer. 

"  Look!  brother,  and  you,  '  La  Carrabiue  Noir  I '  We 
don't  want  to  be  rich,  and  take  what  others  have.  The 
Great  Spirit  has  given  you  the  tame  beasts.  We  don't 
ask  for  them.  He  has  given  us  deer  and  bear  and  buffalo, 
and  we  rejoice  and  thank  Him  for  it.  We  are  but  a  hand 
ful  to  what  you  are ;  but  remember,  when  you  hunt  for  a 
rattlesnake,  it  is  so  little  it  hides  itself  under  the  bushes ; 
you  cannot  find  it,  but  perhaps  it  will  bite  you  before  you 
see  it.  We  are  told — and  we  sometimes  believe  it — that 
you  and  the  French  have  contrived  this  war  between  you 
to  waste  the  Indians  and  divide  their  lands.  We  are  all 
cut  up  by  the  two,  as  cloth  is  cut  between  the  blades  of  a 
pair  of  shears.  We  are  better  than  you,  for  when  we  take 
prisoners,  we  adopt  them  and  treat  them  just  as  our  own 
flesh  and  blood.  We  are  poor,  and  yet  we  clothe  them 
well  as  we  can,  though  you  know  our  children  are  naked, 
as  at  first.  Now,  brother,  if  anybody  strikes  you  three 
times,  you  sit  still  and  think  ;  he  strikes  you  again,  then, 
my  brothers,  you  say  it  is  time,  and  you  will  rise  up  and 
defend  yourselves. 

"See  here!"  he  continued,  vehemently,  stooping  and 
taking  up  some  little  twigs  from  the  ground  ;  "  our  runners 
\vntch  your  army  every  dav  The  dandy  soldiers  don't 


!>6  OLD    FOHT    DUQUESNE. 

KUOW  how  to  fight ;  we  kill  ton  for  one.  Too  much  Quaker, 
too  much  big-wig  there!  Here's  the  way  they  march 
through  the  woods — so," — placing  the  twigs  all  close  to 
gether.  "  We'll  shoot  you  down  like  pigeons  on  a  roost. 
The  English  people  are  fools ;  they  hold  their  guns  half- 
man  high,  and  then  let  them  snap.  We  take  sight  and 
pick  off  the  leaders,  and  so  do  the  French.  We  don't 
shoot  with  one  bullet,  but  on  top  we  put  six  swan  shot. 
We  wont  meet  you  in  open  field,  but  where  there  are 
plenty  of  trees  and  ambushes.  Look  out !  look  out !  I 
warn  you  one,  two,  three  times,"  and  the  old  king  whirled 
his  tomahawk  into  a  tree  close  by,  and  sat  down,  fairly 
livid  and  shaking  with  passion. 

These  hot,  jerky  sentences,  coming  fast  and  thick  from 
Shiugiss,  meant  something,  as  was  afterwards  proved  along 
the  whole  frontier  line  of  Pennsylvania,  which  repeatedly 
felt  his  cruel  hand.  Of  him  Heckewelder,  the  missionary, 
who  was  .better  acquainted  with  the  Indians  of  that  day 
than  any  man  in  the  colonies,  writes :  "  Were  his  war 
exploits  all  on  record,  they  would  form  an  interesting 
document,  though  a  shocking  one.  Conacocheaque,  Big 
Cove,  Sherman's  Valley,  and  other  settlements  along  thf 
frontier,  felt  his  strong  arm.  Sufficient  that  he  was  a  bloody 
warrioi — cruel  his  treatment,  relentless  his  fury ;  his  per 
son  was  small,  but  in  point  of  courage  and  activity  and 
savage  prnvess,  he  was  said  never  to  be  excelled  by  any 
one," 

Our  scouts  heard  these  fierce,  scornful  and  indignant 
utterances  one  after  the  other,  in  silence,  but  with  astonish 
ment.  The  Half-King,  especially,  was  much  more  moved 
lhan  he  cared  to  show.  Accustomed  to  the  deference,  and 
even  submissivcness  to  the  Six  Nations  so  long  showu 
by  the  Delawares  and  Shawnees,  he  now  saw  the?  had 
passed  utterly  from  his  authority,  and  had  not  only  sided 
with  the  French,  but  had  clearly  setup  for  themselves. 


A    COUNCIL   OF   DELAWARE   CHIEFS.  9? 

He  had  listened  courteously,  but  with  uuquailing  eye,  to 
each  speaker,  and  after  a  brief  pause,  replied,  with  dig 
nity : 

"  Enough.  The  great  chiefs  have  spoken  in  council, 
and  the  dust  is  cleared  from  my  eyes.  Scarooyaddy  takes 
back  in  sorrow  the  despised  peace-belt.  He  feels  better 
than  you  what  all  this  means.  He  has  lived  long  both 
among  English  and  Iroquois,  and  knows  their  power. 
They're  like  the  fish  in  yonder  river,  or  like  the  leaves  on 
these  trees,  for  number.  They'll  grind  you  to  powder. 
There  will  not  even  a  squaw  be  left  to  say,  '  This  was  the 
land  of  the  Mohicans.  The  Great  Mauitou  was  angry 
with  his  children,  and  swept  them  all  away.'  The  Half- 
King  is  sad.  Will  Shiugiss  give  us  a  birch  to  cross  tha 
Oh-hee-yo  ?  " 

"Shingiss  will  paddle  you  himself;  but  you're  mai  to 
cross  there,  Chief!  You  know  well  that  from  Sawcunk  " 
[now  Beaver]  "  to  the  fort,  it  is  the  Shawanos  country,  lined 
with  their  towns,  and  just  now  the  war-path  of  all  braves 
going  to  Duquesue."  (See  Appendix  J.) 

"  It  matters  not.  The  Black  Rifle  must  cross  to  the 
other  side,  and  Scarooyaddy  goes  with  him,  even  though 
every  tree  covered  a  painted  warrior." 

"You  risk  much,  and  I  risk  much  to  cross  in  open  day," 
more  softly  spoke  the  old  Delaware  ;  "  but  you're  safe  in 
my  lodge  ;  stay  till  setting  of  the  sun.  Shingiss'  wife  lies 
near  death.  Even  as  you  came,  Killbuck,  our  Chief  Medi 
cine,  was  calling  on  the  Great  Spirit.  I  see,  too,  your  belt 
is  drawn  tight,  and  your  arm  hangs  idle;  you  must  have 
food  and  medicine."  And  the  old  king  strode  over,  with 
short  and  rapid  steps,  and  examined  the  Half-King's 
wounded  arm,  and  commanded  fi.sh  and  venison  to  be 
brought,  and  a  swathing  of  chewed  sassafras  and  wood 
herbs  to  be  applied  to  the  wound. 
7 


CHAPTER    XVII. 

JJLCK   AND   THE   HALF-KINO    MEET   FOE8. 

Stream  of  my  fathers  I  sweetly  still 

The  sunset  rays  thy  valley  fill ; 

Pour  slantwise  down  the  long  defile, 

Wave,  wood,  and  spire  beneath  them  smile. —  Whittle!: 

I've  scared  you  in  the  city,  I've  scalped  you  on  the  plain ; 

Go  count  your  chosen  where  they  fell,  beneath  my  leaden  rain. 

Some  strike  for  hope  of  booty,  some  to  defend  their  all ; 

/  battle  for  the  joy  I  have  to  see  the  white  man  fall. 

Ye've  trailed  me  through  the  forest,  ye've  tracked  me  o'er  the  stream ; 

But  I  stand,  as  should  the  warrior,  with  his  rifle  and  his  spear; 

The  scalp  of  vengeance  still  is  red,  and  warns  you  "  come  not  here." 

The  Seminole. 

THE  two  scouts  partook  heartily  of  the  simple  meal, 
which  hoth  needed  badly,  and,  much  refreshed,  asked 
again  for  a  canoe.  Shingiss  bade  them  enter  one  close  at 
hand,  and  he  and  King  Beaver  took  up  the  paddles,  Sca- 
rooyaddy  first  assuring  them  that  they  were  neither  after 
scalps,  nor  were  they  going  to  scout  about  the  fort,  but 
chose  this  route  rather  than  the  other  of  getting  back  to 
Braddock,  as  being  safer.  It  was  the  truth,  but  not  the 
whole  truth. 

The  canoe  was  headed  somewhat  up  stream,  and  landed 
on  the  edge  of  a  dense  grove  of  elm  and  walnut.  The  two 
chiefs,  after  advising  our  friends  to  keep  off  the  fort-trail, 
and  move  straight  across  the  bottom,  so  as  to  strike  the 
Allegheny  above  Shannopinstown,  where  they  could  easily 
find  a  canoe,  here  bade  them  farewell,  and  were  out  again 
98 


JACK    AND   THE    HALF-KING    MEET    FOES.  99 

into  the  stream.  They  would  keep  their  secret,  but  could 
not,  without  themselves  incurring  suspicion,  guide  them 
further. 

The  scouts,  with  stealthy  tread  and  with  extreme  cau 
tion,  pausing  at  each  moment  to  cast  about  the  most  search 
ing  glances,  were  soon  beyond  the  beaten  trail  leading  to 
the  fort.  So  much  gained. 

Scarooyaddy  now  most  earnestly,  and  even  passionately, 
insisted  with  his  friend,  that  in  case  of  meeting  with  a 
strong  party  of  Indians — than  which  nothing  was  more 
likely — the  two  should  at  once  separate,  Jack  going  in  the 
direction  originally  intended,  while  he  himself  would  strive 
to  divert  the  chase,  so  as  to  allow  Jack  to  reach  and  save 
Marie  and  her  father.  To  this  proposition  Jack  would  not 
listen  for  a  moment,  but  his  mouth  was  stopped  by  the 
Half-King  saying  : 

"  No  word  more.  It  must  be  so.  Scarooyaddy  is  now 
old,  but  there  was  once  a  maiden  dear  to  him  as  the  dew 
to  the  flower.  What  use  for  a  brother  if  he  cannot  risk 
something?  His  rashness  has  led  you  into  this  trouble, 
and,  if  need  be,  he  alone  must  get  you  out  of  it.  Think 
of  the  Wood-thrush  and  the  old  bird-hunter,  with  his  locks 
of  snow." 

Seeing  the  chief  obstinate  in  his  purpose,  Jack  was  fain 
to  submit.  The  trial  came  soon  enough.  They  were 
threading  the  tangled,  wild  woods  with  their  accustomed 
wariness,  when  suddenly  they  met,  in  full  front,  a  party  of 
eight  or  ten  Shawnees,  marching  along  in  usual  Indian 
file,  chatting  and  laughing  merrily  together,  and  certainly 
expecting  no  enemies  in  this  quarter.  Both  scouts  instinc 
tively  glided  behind  two  large  basswoods,  but  too  late  to 
escape  notice. 

As  bad  luck  would  have  it,  this  was  a  Shawnee  scouting 
party  which  had  long  been  following  Braddock's  army, 
and  were  now  returning,  decked  with  scalps  and  laden 


100  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 

with  spoil,  to  the  village  situated  on  what  is  now  called 
Moutour's,  or  Seven  Mile  Island.  The  leader  in  front — a 
sinewy  and  stalwart  chief,  by  the  name  of  Kustaloge — 
who  was  well  acquainted  with  the  persons  of  both  Jack 
and  the  Half-King,  and  who  had  just  heard  of  their  escape 
that  morning  under  the  guns  of  the  fort,  came  to  a  sudden 
stop  in  his  tracks,  giving  a  low  cluck  of  alarm  to  his  fol 
lowers,  and  distinctly  hissing  out  the  dreaded  name — "La. 
Carrabine  Noir!n  All  was  still  in  an  instant.  Every 
man  stole  behind  his  nearest  tree,  and  prepared  for  action. 
The  whole  party  vanished  like  magic.  The  "  plaided  war 
riors"  of  Roderick  Dhu  sank  not  out  of  sight  sooner  or 
more  completely. 

Scarooyaddy,  counting  on  the  party's  ignorance  of  late 
events,  and  whispering  Jack  to  edge  off  fast  as  possible, 
came  out  from  behind  his  tree,  his  hand  advanced  in  a 
friendly  attitude,  and  a  pleasant  speech  upon  his  lips.  The 
sullen,  defiant  look  of  Kustaloge ;  the  easily  detected  ges 
ture  to  his  followers,  in  obedience  to  which  they  commenced 
to  glide  from  tree  to  tree  in  a  semicircle,  so  as  to  surround, 
at  once  told  the  Half-King  'that  that  fetch  would  not  serve. 
They  two  were  known. 

It  was  either  fight,  flight,  or  capture. 

Just  as  Kustaloge  hastily  took  sight  to  shoot,  Scaroo 
yaddy,  without  a  moment's  pause,  changed  his  whole  tac 
tics.  With  his  well  arm,  which  happened  to  be  the  right 
one,  he  whipped  out  his  keen  tomahawk,  and  hurled  it 
with  full  force  at  his  foe,  and  then  bounded  off  straight 
towards  the  fort.  It  was  the  only  direction  now  open  to 
him. 

Kustaloge,  struck  fairly  in  the  breast,  reeled  and  fell, 
just  as  his  piece  went  off  in  the  air.  At  the  same  instant, 
the  sharp  crack  of  Jack's  rifle  chimed  in,  taking  the  ex 
posed  front  of  a  red-skin  who  was  just  peeping  out  from 
behind  his  tree  for  a  shot.  Jack,  too,  waited  not  to  see  the 


JACK    AND   THE   HALF-KING   MEET    FOES.  101 

effect  of  his  aim — though  he  seldom  made  mistakes — but 
broke  through  the  thin  line  in  front,  and  bounded  off  in 
long  leaps  in  the  direction  agreed  on. 

The  fall  of  the  Chief  and  one  of  their  best  fighters, 
stunned  and  confused  for  a  moment  or  two  the  remaining 
Indians.  Gathering  about  the  fallen  with  angry  cries, 
they  fiercely  gesticulated  for  a  brief  time,  but  soon — at  the 
hurried  command  of  the  next  chief  in  rank — they  sepa 
rated  in  pursuit — only  two  following  Jack,  while  the  rest 
dashed  after  the  Half-King,  perhaps  because  he  was  the 
more  hated  of  the  two  for  having  dropped  their  Chief,  or 
because,  from  the  direction  he  ran,  he  had  the  least  chance 
of  escape. 

They  gave  him  but  a  short  breathing  spell.  Gathering 
on  his  track  like  a  pack  of  wolves,  they  bounded  off  in 
pursuit.  It  was  a  race  for  dear  life,  in  which  every  nerve 
was  strained,  every  muscle  taxed.  The  Half-King  had  a 
long  start,  and  managed,  by  almost  superhuman  effort,  to 
keep  up  the  interval.  He  ran  till  the  sweat  poured  off  in 
great  drops,  and  until  his  veins  stood  out  like  whip-cords. 
He  had,  early  in  the  race,  managed,  unseen,  to  chuck  and 
wedge  his  gun  in  behind  a  log  over  which  he  leaped,  and 
to  cover  it  with  leaves.  The  relief  from  this  gave  him 
great  advantage.  He  make  his  way  directly  to  a  narrow 
branch  of  the  river,  which  ran  behind  a  low  and  densely- 
wooded  island  just  opposite  the  fort,  long  afterward  called 
Smoky  Island.  No  vestige  of  it  now  remains. 

Here  the  swift  current  of  the  Allegheny  coursed  and 
chafed  like  a  mill-race,  eating  out  the  earth  beneath  the 
huge  sycamores,  and  leaving  along  that  side  of  the  island 
farthest  from  the  fort,  a  reach  of  deep  and  comparatively 
still  water,  its  surface  only  crumpled  with  whirling  eddies 
and  bubbles.  Choosing  a  position  on  a  fallen  log,  which 
lay  right  on  the  margin  of  this  swift  water,  and  directly 
opposite  an  enormous  buttonwood,  whose  huge,  massive 


102 


OLD    FORT   DUQUESNE. 


roots,  projecting  into  and  over  the  current,  had  collected 
quite  a  drift  of  old  logs,  branches,  bark,  and  other  floating 
riff-raff,  he  waited  patiently. 

On  this  log,  hot,  panting,  and  distressed,  the  Half-King 
quietly  sat,  every  moment  recovering  the  breath  now  so 
nearly  spent.  Soon  his  pursuers  hove  in  sight,  and  the 
foremost,  seeing  in  the  distance  the  scout  sitting  despair 
ingly  on  the  river's  edge,  set  up  a  fierce  yell,  which  was 
echoed  by  each  as  they  one  by  one  panted  into  sight. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 


THE   HALF-KINGS    DESPERATION — JACK'S   ADVENTURE. 

I  fear  not  the  silence  nor  gloom  of  the  grave, 
"Tis  a  pathway  of  shade,  and  gay  flowers  to  the  brave  ; 
For  it  leada  him  to  plains  where  the  gleams  of  the  sun 
Kindle  Spring  in  his  path  that  will  never  be  done. 
Groves,  valleys,  and  mountains,  bright  streamlet  and  dell; 
Sweet  haunts  of  my  youth,  take  my  parting  farewell ; 
Ye  braves  of  ray  kindred,  and  thou,  mother,  adieu! 
Great  shades  of  my  father,  I  hasten  to  you. — Indian  Chant. 

SCAROOYADDY  sat  perfectly  calm  and  still  while  his 
pursuers  closed  in  upon  him.  They  had  him  now ;  there 
could  be  no  escape.  He  had  evidently  been  driven  to  bay. 
Waiting  till  the  foremost  was  almost  within  tomahawk- 
throw,  the  Chief  slowly  arose,  and  looking  around,  as  if 
confusedly,  on  his  tormentors,  began  to  chant  his  death- 
song.  Pie  then,  just  as  his  first  foe  raised  his  tomahawk 
for  the  fatal  cast,  suddenly  sprang  into  the  water,  and 
struck  out  for  the  island.  He  seemingly  preferred  drown 
ing  to  capture  and  torture.  Shortly  his  first  pursuer  leaped 
upon  the  log,  and  soon  as  breath  was  given  him  to  take 
any  aim,  fired  at  the  swimmer.  The  scout  sank,  rose  to 
the  surface,  tossed  his  arms  wildly  above  him,  sank  again, 
and  finally,  with  a  despairing  cry,  and  throwing  the  whole 
upper  part  of  his  body  into  the  air,  he  went  down  for  the 
last  time,  not  ten  feet  from  the  island,  and  just  where  the 
current  was  deepest. 

The  gurgling  and  disturbed  waters  soon  closed  over  his 

103 


104  OLD   FORT   DUQUE8NE. 

head,  and  nothing  but  little  eddies  and  pursuing  and  ever- 
widening  circles  cf  waves,  marked  the  spot  of  his  last  exit. 

Even  his  cruel  foes  watched  his  dying  agonies  with 
silence ;  and  when  his  struggles  ceased  altogether,  and  the 
swift  waters  grew  more  placid  over  the  spot  where  he  dis 
appeared,  only  one  yell  gave  note  of  the  fact.  During  the 
rest  of  the  afternoon  many  Indians  of  prominence  came 
over  to  the  Island  from  the  fort,  to  see  the  very  place  where 
the  famed  Iroquois  Sachem  last  sank.  Those  who  wit 
nessed  it  narrated  the  circumstances  with  eloquence  and 
graphic  detail,  while  many  of  the  Half-King's  admirers, 
and  those,  too,  who  owed  him  allegiance,  recounted  his  vir 
tues  and  lamented  the  untimely  death  of  so  great  a  chief, 
blaming  it  on  the  French  and  English,  whose  quarrel  was 
involving  old  friends  as  well  as  foes. 

As  for  Jack,  his  chase  was  much  less  pressing ;  but  two 
Shawuees  followed  him,  and  these  apparently  not  over 
anxious  to  bring  him  to  a  close  encounter.  He  led  straight 
across  the  broad  level  stretching  between  the  Ohio  and 
Allegheny.  Loading  his  rifle  as  he  ran — a  practice  he 
had  taught  himself  by  long  and  careful  trials — at  the  first 
favorable  opportunity  he  aimed  at  the  foremost  Indian, 
and  must  have  wounded  him,  as  he  dropped  altogether  out 
of  the  course. 

The  remaining  one,  a  big,  burly,  strapping  fellow,  fol 
lowed  on,  getting  closer  and  closer,  until  at  length  he  fired 
a  long  shot,  which  whizzed  most  uncomfortably  near  Jack's 
ears,  and  just  as  he  was  approaching  the  brow  of  a  declivity 
on  which  lay  a  huge  log.  On  top  of  this  Jack  leaped,  then 
turned,  and  giving  forth  a  defiant  yell,  made  a  downward 
plunge.  Soon,  however,  as  he  touched  ground,  he  turned 
straight  around,  and  crept  back,  snugging  himself  up  close 
under  the  log. 

Shortly  the  big  Indian  jumped  upon  the  fallen  trunk, 
blowing  like  a  porpoise,  and,  without  pausing  to  look 


THE  HALF-KING'S  DESPERATION.  105 

around,  also  made  the  downward  leap.  With  a  low,  sharp 
cry,  out  sprang  Jack  like  a  panther,  on  the  Indian's  very 
back  and  shoulders,  actually  bearing  him  to  the  earth  by 
his  weight  and  impetus. 

Both  fell  together,  but  before  his  unwieldy  adversary 
could  recover  breath,  or  wake  up  from  his  daze,  Jack's 
knee  was  on  his  breast,  and  both  arms  were  securely  pin 
ioned  and  held  as  in  a  vice.  The  Indian  puffed,  and 
struggled,  and  rolled  his  eyes,  more  in  surprise  and  dismay 
than  in  ferocity,  but  all  fight  was  evidently  run  and  knocked 
jut  of  him. 

"  Look  here,  my  good  Indian,"  quietly,  and  almost 
mildly,  spoke  Jack  in  English,  scarcely  knowing  or  caring 
whether  it  was  understood  or  not,  "  you're  fearfully  blown 
and  out  of  wind.  Another  half  mile,  and  you'd  have  ex 
ploded.  Why,  you're  a  perfect  Falstaff  of  a  reddy,  and 
must  have  ransacked  a  broad  neck  o'  woods  for  your  keep. 
Now,  I'm  not  out  after  scalps,  but  on  very  different  busi 
ness  ;  besides  you're  Shawnee,  and  not  my  kind.  I'll  let 
your  back  hair  grow  where  it's  rooted,  if  you'll  promise  to 
roost  on  yonder  log,  let  me  alone,  and  pay  your  whole  at 
tention  to  coaxing  back  your  wind." 

"  Ugh !  The  Black  Rifle — never  see  him  before.  Great 
white  brave  ;  now  I  see  him." 

"Yes,  and  feel  him,  too  ;  and  the  more  you  see  him,  the 
less  you'll  like  him,  if  you  don't  behave  yourself  and  be 
amiable.  What  say  you,  must  I  brain  you,  or  will  you 
p.omise?  It  wouldn't  be  healthy  to  make  a  fight." 

"  I  sit  on  log ;  after  while,  go  back  to  my  friend,  The 
Hungry  Bear.  The  Black  Rifle  has  struck  him.  Let  me 
see  the  great  Medicine  gun,"  laying  violent  hold  of  Jack's 
rifle. 

"  Now,  none  of  that,  if  you're  wise,  or  you're  a  dead  and 
scalped  Indian  !  Hold  !  think  I  had  better  tie  you.  Don't 
like  the  roll  of  your  eye  or  the  grit  of  your  teeth ;  in  fact, 


106  OLD   FORT    DUQUESNE. 

you  don't  look  one  bit  handsome;  and,  bless  me!  why  the 
fat  and  sweat's  coming  through  your  tawny  hide  like  a 
sieve!"  and  Jack  proceeded  to  draw  some  thongs — with 
which  all  hunters  were  provided — from  his  pouch,  and  to 
bind  them  firmly  about  the  Indian's  elbows.  The  Shawnee 
commenced  to  heave,  and  wriggle,  and  struggle,  until  Jack 
brought  down  his  closed  fist  on  the  Indian's  painted 
sconce. 

"Won't  you  be  quiet,  you — you  big  booby  you?  Be 
thankful  that  gentle  thump  was  not  from  the  butt  end  of  a 
tomahawk.  Twould  have  made  your  head  ache  and  your 
teeth  rattle.  Why  so  foolish,  gentle  Injun?" 

The  Shawuee  made  no  further  resistance,  Jack  tying 
both  elbows,  and  fastening  the  knot  behind  his  back.  He 
then  laid  him  in  an  easy  position,  stuffed  some  leaves  and 
grass  under  his  hideous  old  head,  gave  him  a  swig  of  rum 
from  his  flask,  lit  him  his  pipe  of  sumach,  and  left  him, 
pleasantly  remarking : 

"  Upon  my  word,  Shawnee,  I  hate  to  leave  you,  you  look  so 
uncommon  chipper-like  and  comfortable.  But  don't  thank 
me  for  it,  but  your  bellows,  which  work  badly,  very.  You 
must  eat  more  corn  and  venison,  and  less  possum  and  rac 
coon.  Good-evening,  old  swell-head,  and  pleasant  dreams 
to  you.  I  have  a  trysting  to  keep." 

The  prostrate  Shawnee  grinned  a  ghastly  smile,  followed 
Jack's  retreating  form  with  a  horrible  leer,  sighed  like  a 
furnace,  and  coaxed  hardly  for  release  ;  but  the  scout  only 
laughed,  shouting  back,  "  Not  any  tobacco,  thank  you  ;  I 
never  smoke  on  a  war-trail,  I'm  much  obliged  to  you. 
Now  do  try  and  compose  yourself;  a  little  nap  would  do 
you  ever  so  much  good  ;  and  bye-bye,  bub  !  " 

Jack,  knowing  well  that  pursuers  would  soon  be  on  his 
track,  hurriedly  strode  along,  coming  out  upon  the  Alle 
gheny  and  proceeding  a  long  way  up  its  bank,  until  he 


THE   HALF-KINGS    DESPERATION. 


107 


came  to  a  large  run,  about  three  miles  above  the  fort,  and 
at  whose  mouth  lay  a  single  cauoe. 

Instead  of  embarking  directly,  he  kept  cautiously  off; 
made  his  way  up  the  run  a  quarter  of  a  mile;  waded  down 
stream  to  the  mouth  ;  carefully  pulled  the  canoe  off  by  the 
water  end,  and  was  soon  in  the  dense  woods  on  the  other 
side  of  the  Allegheny.  Here  he  lay  concealed  till  night 
fall,  whence  his  way  to  De  Bonneville's  forest  retreat  was 
easy  aod  without  further  adventure. 


CHAPTER    XIX. 

WHAT    BEFELL   GI8T,   TALBOT   AND   FAIRFAX.. 

From  the  crown  of  his  head  to  the  sole  of  his  foot, 
He  is  all  mirth ;  he  hath  twice  or  thrice  cut 
Cupid's  bow-string,  and  the  little  hangman 
Dare  not  shoot  at  him  :  he  hath  a  heart  as 
Sound  as  a  bell,  and  his  tongue  is  the  clapper  : 
For  what  his  heart  thinks,  his  tongue  speaks. 

Much  Ado  about  Nothing. 

I  will  fight  with  him  upon  this  theme, 
Until  my  eye-lids  no  longer  wag. — Hamlet. 

AND  what,  all  this  time,  happened  Gist,  Fairfax  and 
Talbot?  When  they  turned  off  at  right-angles  from  the 
brow  of  Coal  Hill,  they  continued  straight  back  until  they 
came  to  a  deep  valley,  through  which  meandered  a  run  of 
considerable  size.  Hunting  out  a  rocky  shore,  so  that  no 
foot-prints  might  reveal  their  course,  the  whole  party — 
much  to  the  disgust  of  the  dainty  Lord  Talbot — entered  it, 
and  waded  along  for  at  least  half  a  mile. 

To  this  course  Talbot  protested  most  strenuously.  To 
be  sure,  "  water  left  no  trail,"  but  at  the  same  time,  the 
sharp  stones  cut  and  bruised  his  tender  feet,  for  he  had  in 
sisted  on  carrying  his  boots  and  stockings  and  wading 
bare-foot.  "  What  a  picture  I  would  present,  to  be  sure," 
he  said  to  Gist,  "  tramping  over  these  horrible,  rough 
mountains,  and  through  these  infernal  jungles,  with  my 
wet  boots  pumping  water,  and  flop,  flop,  flopping  at  every 
108 


WHAT   BEFELL   GIST,   TALBOT   AND    FAIRFAX.        109 

stride !  1  positively  decline  to  do  it — would  rather  risk 
capture  and  torture  by  the  natives." 

Emerging  from  the  run,  with  the  same  precautions  as  on 
entering  it,  the  party  kept  back  another  two  miles,  and 
came  to  a  halt  before  a  rocky  cavern,  where  it  was  pro 
posed  to  stay  until  evening  and  then  continue  their  course 
in  safety.  Picking  their  way,  they  entered — under  noisy 
protest  from  the  Englishman — the  low,  damp  and  dark 
cave,  and  made  themselves  comfortable  as  possible  until 
noon,  when  Talbot,  who  had  steadily  kept  up  a  running 
alternation  of  grumbles  and  mild  swears,  could  stand  it  no 
longer. 

"  Captain  Gist,  this  is  shocking ! — perfectly  horrible  !  I'm 
neither  a  clam,  nor  the  son  of  a  clam,  that  I  must  endure 
this  abominable  wetness.  There's  been  a  stream  of  water — 
foul,  dirty,  nasty  water,  at  that — trickling  down  my  back 
for  an  hour.  Nothing  but  a  snail,  a  toad,  or  a  vampire 
bat  could  stand  this!  The  silence,.too,  is  awful — dreadful ! 
It  appals  me !  It  takes  the  starch  right  out  of  me.  I'd 
as  lief  stay  in  a  charnel  house,  hob-nobbing  with  cold, 
clammy  corpses,  as  in  this  dark,  damp,  doleful,  dismal, 
dirty,  dreary,  dreadful,  damnable  dungeon — there 's  allitera 
tion  for  you !  Besides,  I  don't  believe  there's  a  red-skin 
within  miles  of  us.  I  move  we  go  on  ;  I  am  anxious  to  get 
back  to  camp." 

"  Lord  Talbot,"  said  Gist,  "  Fairfax  and  I  think  this 
cave,  damp  and  uncomfortable  as  it  is,  much  the  safest 
place.  You  know  as  little  of  American  woods  and  Indian 
ways  and  deviltries  as  a  baby ;  if  you  leave  this  secure 
shelter,  you  do  it  at  your  own  risk." 

"  Enough  !  Anything  but  this  horrid,  slimy  place.  I 
will,  at  any  rate,  get  out  into  the  sunlight,  and  take  the 
kinks  out  of  my  back  and  legs.  Gad  !  I  feel  like  a  packed 
sardine,  or  a  smoked  herring.  Will  be  back  in  a  jiffy." 

And  out  he  crept,  gun  in  hand,  looking  around  for  In- 


110  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 

dian  signs,  as  wise  as  au  owl.  All  sunlight  and  pleasant 
ness.  The  birds  were  singing,  the  wild  bees  humming,  the 
butterflies  fluttering  from  flower  to  flower,  the  leaves  were 
whispering  to  each  other  overhead,  but  no  sign  of  aught  else. 
"  What  prudent  old  grannies  these  American  hunters  are, 
to  be  sure,"  thought  Talbot,  as  he  wandered  further  and 
further  down  the  valley.  "  They  make  more  fuss  over  a 
moccasin  print,  than  we  of  the  30th  did  in  India  over  the 
'spoor'  of  a  tiger  or  a  wild  elephant.  Hanged  if  I  don't 
soon  '  cut  '  the  whole  connection,  and  go  it  on  my  own 
hook ! " 

Very  soon  Talbot  sat  down  at  the  foot  of  a  hollow  beechj 
to  watch  the  playful  gambols  of  a  couple  of  young  hares, 
and  was  just  commencing  to  hum  a  favorite  tune,  when, 
happening  to  look  back,  he  thought  he  saw,  away  off,  aiv 
Indian  coming  at  right-angles  to  the  course  he  had  taken. 
His  heart  was  in  his  throat  in  an  instant.  On  a  secono 
sight,  his  thought  became  fact. 

The  Indian  was  crossing  Talbot's  path,  when  all  at  once 
he  passed,  and  looked  quickly  and  carefully  around.  He 
then  stopped,  and  commenced  examining  the  grass,  assum 
ing  a  crouching  posture. 

"What  is  the  painted  omadhoun  doing?"  thought  Tal 
bot.  "  I  haven't  a  moment  to  lose ;  he  might  chance  to 
come  along  here  ;  nothing  for  it  but  to  mount  the  tree, 
should  he  pass  this  way."  Talbot  then  concealed  his  gun 
in  the  hollow,  and,  with  much  difficulty,  managed  to  climb 
to  the  lowest  limb,  and  swing  himself  up  into  the  tree. 

Then,  mounting  to  a  higher  notch,  he  sat  contentedly, 
curiously  and  speculatively  watching  the  motions  of  the 
Indian,  who  first  looked  up,  then  down,  then  all  around. 
Finally,  with  eyes  still  on  the  ground,  he  advanced  Talbot's 
way.  He  swerved  neither  to  right  nor  left,  for  Talbot  left 
a  trail  like  a  buffalo,  that  any  Indian  could  follow.  He 
came  straight  up  the  beech,  looked  in  the  hollow,  saw 


WHAT    BEFKLL   GIST,  TALBOT    AND    FAIRFAX.        Ill 

the  carbine,  and  started  back  wilh  a  sudden  exclamation; 
got  behind  the  next  tree,  and  then  cautiously  peered  out 
on  every  side.  Knowing  that  Talbot's  track  led  only  to, 
and  not /row  the  tree,  his  glance  then  went  upward.  With 
a  shudder  that  shook  his  whole  frame,  Talbot  soon  felt  the 
savage's  baleful  eye  dead  upon  him. 

With  a  ugh!  the  fellow  seized  his  rifle,  raised  it  to  his 
shoulder,  "drew  a  bead"  on  him,  and  in  an  instant  would 
have  brought  down  his  gay  bird,  had  not  Talbot  hastily 
exclaimed  : 

"See  here!  Mr.  Indian,  hold!  I  beg  you.  For  God's 
sake,  don't  shoot !  I'll  come  down." 

The  wondering  savage  paused,  without  lowering  his  piece, 
or  taking  off  Talbot  his  glittering  eye. 

"Halloo,  I  say!  For  mercy's  sake,  take  the  mouth  of 
that  dreadful  blunderbuss  from  off  me!  It  puts  me  all  of  a 
tremble.  By  jove!  fellow,  don't  you  understand  King 
George's  English  ?  " 

The  rifle  was  lowered,  the  Indian  gazing  at  Talbot  with 
an  undisguised  curiosity,  not  knowing  what  course  to  pur 
sue. 

"That's  better!  I  breathe  much  freer.  I'll  now  come 
down  and  surrender  myself  prisoner  of  war;  but  what  a 
pickle  I'm  in,  and  what  a  spectacle  I  present!  I  wish  my 
mother  could  see  me  now ;  she'd  not  know  her  oldest." 

The  Indian,  who  seemed,  happily,  to  be  good-natured 
enough,  advanced  and  took  possession  of  the  carbine,  and 
then  quietly  waited  Talbot's  descent.  As  the  latter  was  com 
ing  down  from  limb  to  limb,  he  made  a  false  step,  a  brunch 
broke,  and  over  he  tumbled,  right  on  top  of  the  savage, 
who  was  doubled  up  in  an  instant  and  brought  violently 
to  the  earth. 

He  leaped  up  in  a  moment,  mad  as  a  hornet;  drew  his 
scalping  knife,  pounced  upon  poor  Talbot,  whose  breath 
knocked  out  of  him,  and  twisted  his  fingers  in  the 


112  OLD   FOKT   DUQUESNE. 

young  lord's  long  locks,  aud  was  just  about  to  cut  the  fatal 
circle,  when  behold  !  the  whole  confounded  thing  came  off 
in  his  hand ! 

The  scene  was  ludicrous  in  the  extreme.  This  far-away 
Shawnee  chief  had  never  seen  or  heard  of  wigs,  aud  he 
stood  perfectly  aghast  and  stupefied  ;  his  mouth  open,  his 
eyes  big  as  saucers ;  first  looking  at  the  wig,  and  then  at 
Talbot,  who  was  now  prostrate  and  peeled  like  any  onion. 
It  was  some  time  before  the  amazed  red-skin  recovered 
from  his  astonishment;  until  even  Talbot,  desperate  as  his 
situation  was,  commenced  to  enjoy  the  scene.  At  last  the 
Chief  cautiously  put  out  his  haud  and  felt  all  over  Talbot's 
cropped  head.  This  was  too  much  for  the  latter,  and  he 
fairly  laughed  out,  saying : 

"You  think,  big  Injun,  I'm  a  very  little  'pale-face'  to 
have  so  much  hair.  Well,  it  did  rather  stunt  me  to  grow 
it  all,  and  in  separate  lots,  too ;  but  you'll  admit  it's  very 
convenient  among  you  savages.  Now,  if  you're  done  with 
my  scalp,  I'll  put  it  on  again,"  and  Talbot  took  the  wig 
from  his  non-resisting  hands,  and  set  it  on  his  head. 

The  Indian  took  it  off  and  put  it  on  several  times,  before 
he  fairly  understood  the  "  wrinkle,"  and  then  he  brought 
out  a  cumulative,  guttural  roar,  which  seemed  to  be  gath 
ered  away  up  from  his  moccasins;  which  convulsed  his  burly 
frame,  and  which  he  intended  for  a  laugh. 

One  would  think,  to  see  the  two  together,  that  they  had 
been  cronies  from  youth.  Talbot  seemed  to  enjoy  the  joke 
even  more  than  his  companion.  He  could  well  afford  it, 
for  his  wig  had  saved  his  life. 

All  at  once  a  bright  thought  seemed  to  seize  the  puzzled 
Indian,  which  came  from  a  long  and  careful  scrutiny  of 
Talhot's  dress,  ruffles,  and  delicate  features. 

He  sprang  up,  saying,  in  his  broken  English  : 

"  Come!  little  '  two-scalps,'  go  to  Nymwha's  lodge  and  be 
his  squaw.  Him  thought  you  a  'brave; '  no w  he  know  better." 


WHAT   BEFELL   GIST,   TALBOT    AND    FAIRFAX.      113 

Talbot  jumped  as  if  bit  by  a  rattlesnake.  lie  fairly 
dauced  and  pranced  with  indignation. 

"You  old  painted,  heathen  scare-crow!  what  in  God's 
name  do  you  take  me  for — a  woman  ?  Say  it  again,  and 
I'll  brain  you  with  your  own  tomahawk  ! "  And  then  pen 
sively,  to  himself:  "  Who'd  have  thought  I'd  ever  lived  to 
be  taken  for  a  female  woman,  by  a  North  American  sav 
age  ?  What  would  my  old  Governor  and  Lady  Grace  say 
to  that  ?  By  the  Lord  Harry,  the  thought  stuns  me  !  I'm 
faint !  I'm  going  to  die  !  "  The  good-natured  Indian 
looked  amusedly  on,  not  understanding  the  drift  of  Tal- 
bot's  words,  and  apologetically  remarked  : 

"  No  hoe  corn  in  Nymwha's  wigwam — much  meat,  nice 
birds,  good  hominy,  only  two  squaws,  plenty  papooses — " 

"  What !  By  jove,  I'm  not  equal  to  this  last !  Here ! 
Indian,  strike  me  dead  ;  I'm  tired  of  life !  There's  my 
scalp !  "  and  he  whisked  off  his  wig  and  hurled  it  at  the 
Chief's  head.  Then  springing  up,  he  took  him  by  the 
shoulders,  and  shook  him  with  all  his  strength,  and  shouted 
in  his  ear : 

"  Know  that  I'm  a  man,  and  a  warrior  like  yourself! 
and  if  you  ever  again  call  me  woman — even  so  much  as 
name  squaw  to  me — I'll — I'll — well,  upon  my  word,  I  don't 
know  what  I  would  do,  except  swoon,  the  whole  thing's  so 
perfectly  absurd  ;  "  and  here  the  amusing  side  of  the  joke 
took  him,  and  he  laughed  till  he  cried. 

Finally  Nymhwa — for  that  was  the  name  of  the  old 
Shawnee  Chief — said  :  "  Well,  you  vely  funny  '  pale-face ; ' 
if  you  warrior,  come  with  me  to  big  gun  house  "  [Fort  Du- 
quesne]  ;  "  but  where  the  Indian  and  the  other  '  pale-face  ? ' 
They  near  here ?  Come!  I  must  get  on  trail  again.  I'm 
Nymwha,  which  mean  in  Anglish,  'trailing- wolf." 

"No  use,  Nymwha  !  if  that's  your  name.  They  went 
back  to  Braddock  hours  ago."  Then  to  himself:  "  I  hope 
I'll  be  forgiven  for  that  whopper." 


Hi  OLD    FORT    DUQUESNE. 

"  Aud  why  you  no  go  with  them  ?  "  looking  at  him  sus 
piciously. 

"  Look  at  my  feet,  stupid !  and  ask  that  question  ;  couldn't 
walk.  I  was  to  wait  till  night,  and  was  to  meet  a  party 
sent  out  for  me  ;"  and  then,  with  an  appearance  of  great 
indignation  :  "  Do  you  doubt  me?  Don't  you  believe  the 
word  of  an  English  gentleman  ?  and  " — sotto  voce — "  he  ly 
ing  to  you  as  fast  as  he  can." 

"  Me  no  much  understand  ;  but  if  they  go  or  stay,  all 
the  same,  Heaps  of  warriors  in  the  woods.  Burn  them 
up  at  big  gun  house.  No  burn  you.  I  lose  a  good  sou  ; 
you  take  his  place  and  be  Indian." 

"  Ah,  now,  my  big  old  papa,  you  talk  sense,  and  don't 
insult  me.  Lead  on  to  the  fort!  It  cannot  be  but  a  few 
days  before  Braddock  will  own  it,  and  all  inside  and  about 
it.  Ah,  he's  a  chief  for  you  !  He'll  scatter  you  wild  In 
dians  like  leaves  before  a  tornado." 

And  so  the  two  took  up  their  line  of  march  to  the  Mon- 
ongahela,  the  Chief  in  high  good  humor  walking  behind, 
carrying  Talbot's  carbine,  and  every  now  and  then  laying 
his  huge  paw  lightly  and  caressingly  on  Talbot's  wig,  feel 
ing  of  his  velvet  coat,  fingering  his  lace  ruffles,  and  evi 
dently  highly  delighted  with  his  prize. 

It  was  late  in  the  afternoon,  when  Talbot  stood  behind 
the  very  same  log,  on  the  hill  opposite  the  fort,  which  he 
had  so  hurriedly  left  in  the  morning.  A  feeling  of  sadness 
stole  over  him,  and  it  was  with  greatly  changed  emotions 
that  he  now  looked  abroad  at  the  fort,  and  saw  it  sur 
rounded  by  Indians,  many  of  whom  were  even  then  en 
gaged  in  a  game  something  like  "  leap-frog."  For  the  first 
time  an  anxiety  as  to  what  might  be  his  fate,  began  to  op 
press  him. 

Talbot,  though  small  and  gently  nurtured,  was  brave 
as  Julius  Caesar,  but  the  appearance  of  so  many  yelling 
savages  was  enough  to  appul  a  stouter  heart  than  his.  The 


WHAT    BEFELL   GIST,    TALBOT   AND    FAIUFAX.        115 

brawny  Chief  seemed  actually  to  have  taken  a  desperate 
liking  to  the  young  lord.  He  had  never  seen  anything 
like  him  before,  and  tried  all  he  could  to  be  friendly. 

"Now!  little  'two-scalps,'  watch!  see  what  a  stir-up  I 
make  down  there." 

He  then  sprang  on  the  log  and  gave  a  long  yell,  followed 
by  a  succession  of  quick,  shrill  shouts  of  joy  and  triumph, 
understood  to  indicate  that  a  prisoner  had  been  taken. 
Then,  laughingly  pointing  to  Talbot's  wig,  said  :  "  I  now 
make  ' sca/p-halloo.'"  This  was  a  fur  different  kind  of 
yell.  The  effect  of  both  was  magical. 

All  who  had  been  at  play,  left  their  games  and  gathered 
on  the  bluff.  Each  hut  and  tent  poured  forth  its  contribu 
tion  ;  the  soldiers  and  cadets,  too,  gathered  on  the  ramparts, 
and  all  that  were  not  then  out  on  the  hunt  after  Braddock's 
scouting  parties,  were  assembled  to  see  whether  it  was  Jack, 
the  Half-King,  or  some  one  else  who  was  scalped  or  pris 
oner.  All  was  joy — dancing,  shouting,  and  firing  of  big 
and  little  guns. 

Soon  a  couple  of  canoes  pushed  off  for  the  opposite  shore, 
when  Nymwha  and  his  captive,  looking  forlorn  and  discon 
solate  enough,  commenced  their  descent  to  meet  them. 
When  they  reached  the  beach,  Talbot,  looking  as  indiffer 
ent  and  defiant  as  he  could,  unflinchingly  bore  the  scru 
tinizing  glances  cast  at  him.  It  must  be  confessed,  he 
presented  a  rather  sorry  appearance.  With  his  fine  clothes 
all  ruffled,  besmirched,  and  in  many  places  torn  by  thorna 
and  briars,  and  with  his  poor  wig  all  awry  and  dishevelled, 
he  was  more  the  object  of  an  amused  curiosity  than  of  any 
fierceness  of  looks. 

He  had  scarce  entered  the  canoe,  before  a  low  but  ear 
nest  conversation  sprang  up  among  the  paddlers,  and  Nym- 
wha  was  evidently  being  called  to  account  for  the  "scalp- 
halloo  "  he  had  given  without  any  scalp  to  show  for  it ;  but 


116  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 

he,  laughing  inwardly,  sat  like  a  Stoic,  and  waved  off  all 
explanation. 

Poor  Talbot  bad  now  a  most  trying  ordeal  to  undergo. 
A  dense  crowd  was  assembled  on  the  other  side ;  shore  and 
bluff  and  rampart  were  lined  with  spectators,  and  as  he 
stepped  out  of  the  canoe,  every  eye  was  levelled  at  him. 
The  same  curiosity  and  surprise  were  manifest  here  as  on 
the  other  side.  The  young  lord  felt  so  keenly  his  situation, 
and  was  so  conscious  himself  of  the  ludicrous  appearance 
he  presented,  that  if  he  had  seen  a  laugh  on  the  face  of  any 
spectator,  he  would  have  rushed  forward  and  struck  it  off. 
None  but  Indians  directly  around — not  an  officer  or  soldier 
from  the  fort,  though  it  was  but  a  couple  of  hundred  yards 
distant. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

TALBOT  FORCED  TO  "  RUN  THE  GAUNTLET." 

They  have  tied  me  to  the  stake ;  I  cannot  fly, 
But,  bear -like,  I  must  fight  the  course. — Macbeth. 

He  speaks  plain  cannon,  fire,  and  smoke,  and  bounce; 

He  gives  the  bastinado  with  his  tongue ; 

Our  ears  are  cudgel'd ;  not  a  word  of  his 

But  buffets  better  than  a  fist  of  France  ; 

Zounds !  I  was  never  so  bethump'd  with  words. — King  John. 

THE  party  had  scarce  gained  the  bluff,  before  a  number 
of  Indians,  dressed  only  in  their  breech-clouts,  and  Jreshly 
and  hideously  painted  in  divers  colors — chiefly  vermilion 
— made  their  appearance,  ran  hastily  forward,  and  ranged 
themselves  in  two  ranks,  about  a  rod  or  so  apart.  Here, 
also,  a  murmur  arose  against  Nymwha  for  giving  the 
"  scalp-halloo,"  and  no  scalp  taken.  He,  however,  bore  it 
all  very  patiently,  telling  Talbot,  as  well  as  he  could  in  his 
broken  English,  that  it  was  an  old  Indian  custom  that 
when  a  prisoner  was  taken,  he  must  "  run  the  gauntlet," 
and  the  faster  he  ran,  the  better  it  would  be  for  him  ;  and 
if  he  could  get  into  any  hut  by  the  way,  or  as  soon  as  he 
reached  the  end  of  the  files,  he  would  then  be  perfectly  safe. 

This  was  unwelcome  news  to  Talbot,  who  felt  outraged 
at  such  treatment  of  a  prisoner,  and  indignant  that  the 
French  did  not  interfere  to  relieve  him  from  so  great  an 
insult.  No  help  for  it,  however.  The  double  file  seemed 
good-natured  enough,  and  many  of  them  apparently  very 
much  interested  in  his  favor. 

117 


118  OLD   FORT   DUQUESXE. 

Just  as  all  was  ready  for  the  trial,  the  grave  arid  digni 
fied  Delaware,  King  Beaver,  who  had  by  this  time  come 
up  from  Shingiss'  camp,  stepped  forward,  and  pointing  to 
the  prisoner,  made  an  effective  little  speech,  which  evidently 
told  iu  Talbot's  favor.  He  wras  followed  by  Athanase,  the 
Christianized  Mohawk  from  Quebec  and  the  great  Chief 
alluded  to  as  listening  to  De  Bonneville's  flute  the  night 
before.  They  had  probably  directed  attention  to  Talbot's 
slight  form  and  delicate  appearance,  so  different  from  what 
they  were  accustomed  to  see.  At  any  rate,  all  guns  and 
clubs  were  cast  aside,  aud  nothing  but  ramrods,  switches, 
twisted  blankets,  etc.,  retained. 

All  was  now  ready,  when  suddenly  Talbot's  captor  arose 
wir.h  an  air  of  great  solemnity,  led  him  forward,  and  seated 
him  directly  between  the  two  files.  Stooping  down,  he 
whispered: 

"  You  no  fear ;  me  no  hurt  my  sou  ;  me  make  much  fun, 
and  save  you  a  good  beating." 

Then,  stepping  back  and  resuming  his  solemn  looks,  he 
commenced  a  speech  to  the  wondering  lookers-on  from 
many  different  tribes,  in  which  he  alluded  to  the  murmurs 
against  him  for  giving  the  "  scalp-halloo"  without  a  scalp, 
and  now  he  would  ehow  them  one ;  with  that,  he  uttered  a 
fierce  yell,  whisked  out  a  keen  blade,  sprang  to  Talbot  with 
a  single  bound,  and  twining  his  fingers  iu  his  long,  curling 
locks,  he  drew  the  knife  lightly  around  the  crown,  and 
brandished  the  wig  in  the  air. 

Several  of  the  chiefs,  and  even  two  French  officers  from 
the  fort,  rushed  forward  to  stay  his  ruthless  hand,  but  it 
was  too  late.  Soon  as  the  deed  was  done,  Nymwha  emitted 
a  most  terriffic  "scalp-halloo,"  which  made  the  hills  around 
fairly  ring  with  echoes,  and  which  struck  horror  into  the 
henrts  of  the  soldiers  and  cadets  who  lined  the  ramparts. 

The  effect  of  this  tragical  and  totally  unexpected  act 
was  magical.  The  perfect  stillness  was  succeeded  by  great 


TALBOT  FORCED  TO  "  RUN  THE  GAUNTLET."    1 19 

noise  and  confusion.  On  seeing  Talbot's  under  crop  of 
hair,  the  amazement  was  conspicuously  ludicrous;  but  the 
soldiers,  and  the  more  knowing  of  the  Indians — those  who 
had  mingled  much  with  the  whites  and  visited  their  cities 
— immediately  began  to  appreciate  the  joke,  for  joke  it 
was. 

It  was  some  time,  however,  before  the  puzzled  and  stupe 
fied  mob  could  understand  the  double-scalp  arrangement, 
but  when  they  did,  all  fierceness  and  anger  had  fled,  and 
they  crowded  around  Talbot,  roughly  feeling  his  real  and 
his  artificial  hair  with  the  greatest  curiosity,  and  giving 
out  loud  guffaws  of  the  most  uproarious  laughter;  indeed, 
some  of  the  inveterate  wags  and  jokers — and  what  nation 
has  not  its  funny  men? — seemed  as  if  they  would  hurt 
themselves  at  the  sight.  They  twisted,  and  wriggled,  and 
rolled  on  the  ground  in  fits  of  uncontrollable  merriment. 

For  the  second  time  Talbot's  wig  had  saved  him,  and  he 
was  actually  beginning  to  be  so  exceedingly  popular  that 
his  patience  was  sorely  tried.  At  last  he  could  stand  it  no 
longer,  so  he  cried  out  to  his  captor,  to  whom  this  was 
evidently  the  biggest  and  most  successful  joke  of  his  life, 
and  who  was  standing  by  pompously  doing  the  honors  and 
grinning  from  ear  to  ear  : 

"  Tis  time  this  farce  and  torn-foolery  was  about  done ! 
I'm  as  little  of  a  clown  as  I  am  of  a  woman,  and  I'd 
rather  be  scourged  by  your  infernal  demons  from  one  end 
of  the  ranks  to  the  other,  than  to  be  held  up  as  an  object 
of  ridicule.  Take  me  to  the  fort  at  once !  I  must  and  will 
see  its  craven  commander  and  call  him  to  account." 

"'Little  two-scalps'  must  run  the  gauntlet;  'tis  an  old 
and  strong  custom,  but  Nymwha  has  now  taken  all  the  hurt 
out  of  it.  Here !  take  this !  "  and  he  secretly  filled  Talbot's 
hands  with  fine  sand  from  the  beach.  "  When  Indian  go 
hurt  you,  throw  in  him  eye." 

"  Good  !  I'll  do  it.     If  I  must  run,  I  must ;  so  here  goes," 


120  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 

and,  jumping  up  suddenly,  he  had  gone  half-way  down  the 
course  before  the  by-stauders  could  collect  to  flog  him. 
He  received  some  sharp  blows  and  strokes,  but  most  were 
saved  by  his  throwing  the  sand  into  the  faces  of  those 
ready  to  strike,  who  jumped  back  rubbing  their  smarting 
eyes  amid  the  laughs  and  jeers  of  all. 

At  the  end  stood  one  huge,  ferocious-looking  fellow,  with 
a  club  poised  in  air,  but  Talbot,  suddenly  stopping,  darted 
under  his  legs,  making  him  turn  a  complete  somersault. 
Getting  up  bellowing  with  rage,  he  was  rushing  after 
Talbot,  but  was  held  back  by  his  laughing  companions, 
and  the  trial  by  gauntlet  was  over,  leaving  Talbot  fairly 
bursting  with  shame  and  indignation. 

Just  then  the  fort  gate  was  opened,  and  Talbot  crossed 
the  draw-bridge,  marched  scowlingly  past  the  crowd  of 
smiling  or  sympathizing  Frenchers,  whom  he  completely 
ignored,  and  was  taken  to  a  rude  room  in  Captain  Du 
mas'  quarters.  Here  he  demanded  to  see  Beaujeu,  the 
commandant,  who  after  a  long  delay,  in  which  Tulbot 
had  plenty  of  time  to  cool  down,  granted  him  an  inter 
view,  wishing,  doubtless,  to  ascertain  some  reliable  informa 
tion  of  the  approaching  army. 

Tulbot  glared  at  the  commandant — who  was  a  fine, 
dignified,  and  courteous  officer  of  about  middle  age — as  if 
be  would  like  to  throttle  him,  the  more  especially  as  he 
ietected  a  hardly-concealed  smile  on  Beaujeu's  counte 
nance,  produced,  probably,  by  Talbot's  tawdry  and  dilapi 
dated  appearance,  and  by  the  memory  of  the  late  scenes  he 
had  just  witnessed. 

"Captain  Beaujeu,  do  you  speak  English?"  brusquely 
commenced  Talbot. 

"  J'ai  the  hounaire,  monsieur,  to  parler  a  verra  leetle  bit 
Anglish." 

"  Well  !  if  that's  a  sample,  I'll  not  contradict  you," 
saucily  replied  the  peppery  and  choleric  young  lord.  "  I 


TALBOT  FORCED  TO  "  RUN  THE  GAUNTLET."  121 

now  tell  you,  as  soon  as  I  can  and  without  wasting  any 
words  that  I  am  Lord  Talbot,  heir  to  a  noble  house  of 
England,  and  being  a  peer  of  Britain  and  certainly  your 
equal  in  rank,  I  demand  to  know  when  and  where  we  can 
meet  and  with  what  weapons ! — now  and  here  would  suit  me 
admirably! " 

An  amused  smile  hovered  over  the  pleasant  face  of  the 
commandant: 

"Eh,  bien  !  monsieur;  I  muss  say  votre  deportment  is 
tres  extraordinaire." 

"  Extraordinary  or  not,  you  have  tamely  stood  by  and 
allowed  me  to  be  insulted  most  grossly.  .Never  were  so 
many  shameful  indignities  heaped  upon  any  one,  as  on  me, 
by  the  painted  demons  you  call  your  allies,  and  I  ask  satis 
faction  and  will  have  it" 

"  Parbleu !  Monsieur  assurement  forgets  to  re-remember 
he  is  ze  prisonuier  of  ze  Indians,  and  zat  I  can  do  uozzing — 
nozzing  du  tout.  Ze  Indians  do  wiz  him  as  wiz  all  zeir  pris- 
onuiers.  It  does  say  in  votre  Anglish  '  How  d'ye  do.' 
C'est  cela,  exactement." 

"  Bah !  all  stuff  and  rubbish !  You  know  better,  Cap 
tain  ;  but  a  real  commander  is  coming,  who  will  teach  you 
manners  as  well  as  the  art  of  war." 

Beaujeu  bowed  courteously. 

"  Monsieur  muss  aussi  remember  zat  if  he  vaz  not  pris- 
onnier  cf  ze  Indians,  mes  soldats  muss  shoot  him  as  a — a — 
vat  you  call  him? — a  spy." 

'  Tis  false,  I  say  !  I'm  no  spy,  but  an  amateur  scout — 
that's  good  French — an  amateur  scout !  " 

"  Excus-ez  mon  muuvais  Anglish,  monsieur,  but  ven  you 
claim  to  be  a  nobleman  you  muss  nevaire  forget  to  be  a 
shentilman — nevaire." 

"  By  Jove!  this  is  too  much  !  Am  I  to  be  taught  man 
ners  in  these  backwoods,  and  by  a  French  adventurer,  who 
herds  with  a  lot  of  painted  thieves  and  scalp-lifters?" 


122 


OLD    FORT    DUQUESNE. 


"  I  have,  monsieur,  a  sympathie  veritable  for  your  condi 
tion,  and  I  no  uuderstan  all  zat  you  speak,  mais,  if  you 
will  talk  comme  §a,  I  muss  put  you  in  ze  guard  house." 

"  Well,  I  do  talk,  comme  ea,  as  you  call  it,  and  I  tell  you, 
further,  that  you  are  no  gentleman,  and  that  if  you  don't 
grant  me  the  satisfaction  I  ask,  you  are  a  poltroon,  and  I 
spit  on  you,  and — " 

But  the  appearance  of  the  guard  at  a  signal  from 
Beaujeu  cut  off  all  further  declamation  on  Talbot's  part, 
and  he  was  taken  out  struggling  and  vehemently  pro 
testing  against  this  further  indignity,  which  however  was 
brought  on  himself  by  his  own  intemperance  of  language. 

What  befell  him  in  those  narrow  quarters,  and  the 
strange  events  which  succeeded,  will  be  found  as  our  story 
advances. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

TALBOT   INSIDE  THE   GUARD   HOUSE. 

Say  I  what's  thy  name  ? 
Thou  hast  a  grim  appearance,  and  thy  face 
Bears  a  command  in't ;  though  thy  tackle's  torn, 
Thou  sbow'st  a  noble  vessel. — Coriolanus. 

A  waggish  courage, 
Ready  in  gibes,  quick-answer'd,  saucy, 
And  as  quarrelousas  the  weasel. — Cynbeline. 

THE  young  Lord  Talbot — by  reason  of  his  too  great 
nimbleness  of  tongue — being  now  safely  snugged  iu  the 
guard  house,  had  plenty  of  leisure  to  bewail  his  fate,  and 
the  rapid  mutations  of  human  affairs.  His  scout — entered 
upon  with  so  much  zest  and  enthusiasm — had  been  produc 
tive  of  anything  but  pleasure.  He  had,  in  fact,  seen  more 
than  he  bargained  for.  Having  been,  as  it  were,  twice 
scalped  ;  forced  to  run  the  gauntlet;  held  up  to  ridicule  in 
presence  of  his  detested  foes,  the  French — whom  he  hated 
worse  then  he  did  the  devil — and  last,  though  not  least, 
taken  for  a  "  female  woman  "  by  a  North  American  savage 
— all  this  was  too  much  for  his  proud  and  egotistical  na 
ture,  and  his  rage  was  speedily  succeeded  by  melancholy 
at  his  forlorn  and  desolate  situation. 

The  guard  house  was  situated  within  the  fort,  close  by 
the  rampart,  and  abutting  on  the  road  leading  to  the  draw 
bridge  and  the  huge  log  gate  which  presented  to  the  eastern 
side.  It  was  a  simple  shed,  made — like  all  the  other  build- 

123 


124  OLD    FORT   DUQUESNE. 

ings  with  which  the  area  within  the  fort  was  crowded — the 
front  and  roof  of  rough,  sawed  plank,  and  the  back  of  logs, 
placed  about  three  feet  distant  from  the  stockades,  the  space 
between  being  filled  with  earth  to  the  height  of  eight 
feet — the  stockades  being  about  four  feet  higher. 

Talbot  had  not  lain  there  long  until,  worn  out  by  the 
fatigues  and  excitements  of  the  day,  he  fell  asleep,  aud 
three  hours  after,  when  Captain  Dumas  quietly  entered  the 
room,  was  lying  in  a  most  profound  slumber,  a  smile  play 
ing  about  his  mouth,  and  one  arm  thrown  over  his  head. 
He  looked  like  a  young  girl,  so  soft  was  his  smile,  and  so 
delicate  were  his  features  and  whole  appearance. 

Dumas,  who  bore  in  his  hand  some  venison,  a  broiled 
bird,  and  a  flagon  of  Bordeaux,  gazed  long  upon  the  young 
sleeper — who  seemed  so  utterly  out  of  place  amid  the  rude 
surroundings  of  a  backwoods  camp — and  an  expression  of 
interest  and  sympathy  stole  over  his  countenance.  It  was 
some  time  before  he  ventured  to  disturb  the  dreamless 
slumber  of  his  prisoner  ;  but  as  it  was  growing  very  late, 
he  finally  shook  him  quietly  by  the  shoulder,  and  said,  in 
gentle  tones : 

"  Monsieur  !  Monsieur !  awake !  I  bring  you  votre 
sou  per!  " 

Talbot  sprang  up  with  a  start,  gazed  around  him,  rubbed 
his  eyes,  gradually  took  in  the  situation,  and  could  not  re 
strain  a  deep  sigh  from  escaping  him.  All  his  anger  had 
left  him,  and  in  its  place  was  an  expression  of  sadness  and 
weariness. 

"  Miloid  Talbot,  J'espere  que  vous  avez — ah,  peste !  I  did 
forget  zat  you  no  understand  my  langue.  I  muss  send  for 
un  interpreted' 

"  Je  crois,"  replied  Talbot,  smilingly,  with  infinite  grace 
and  in  most  excellent  French.  "  Qu'un  interprete  n'est 
pas  necessaire  ici.  Si  vous  avez  quelque  chose  a  dire, 


TALBOT  INSIDE  THE  GUARD  HOUSE.  125 

monsieur,  a  un  malheureux  prisonnier,  je  suis  tout  prdt.  A 
qui  est  ce  que  j'ai  1'honneur  de  parler." 

A  bright  ami  friendly  smile  illumined  Dumas'  fine,  sol 
dierly  face,  and  the  following  conversation,  which  we 
freely  translate,  followed : 

"  Parbleu  !  monsieur,  I  was  told  you  could  not  speak  one 
word  of  French." 

"Say,  Captain,  that  I  would  not,  and  you're  nearer  the 
mark.  Like  most  well-bred  Englishmen,  I  understand 
your  language,  and  dislike  your  race.  Your  commandant, 
especially,  I  have  every  reason  to  detest,  for  allowing  an 
unarmed  prisoner  to  suffer  such  indignities  as  were  heaped 
on  me,  and  not  raise  a  voice  or  finger  to  prevent.  I  pro 
test  against  his  conduct  as  ungentlemanly — that's  too  weak 
a  word  ! — as  cowardly  in  the  extreme ;  and  when  I  found 
de  Beaujeu  floundering  along  in  broken — I  may  add  very 
broken  English,  it  was  not  for  me  to  help  him  out — would 
have  died  first.  You  look  like  one  of  a  different  stamp — 
are  not  responsible  for  his  demerits — and  your  presence  in 
my  poor  quarters  betokens  some  heart." 

"  I  care  not,"  said  Dumas,  with  the  usual  French  shrug 
and  elevation  of  the  eye-brows,  "  to  discuss  the  virtues  of 
my  commandant,  and  I  beg  you  to  spare  me  further  dis 
paragement  of  him.  He  is  not  only  a  brave  soldier,  but  a 
gentleman.  Milord  Talbot " — bowing  courteously — "is  too 
shrewd  and  sensible  a  man  to  expect  that  just  now,  when 
his  army  5s  daily  expected,  M.  de  Beaujeu  would  do  any 
thing — even  the  slightest — to  weaken  his  hold  on  his  jeal 
ous  and  impatient  allies.  Diable !  monsieur,  we  have  to  do 
many  things  in  this  country  which  would  be  thought  strange 
and  cruel  at  the  Court  of  Louis  XV.  Will  monsieur" — 
offering  Talbot  a  goblet  of  wine — "  partake  of  some  refresh 
ments  after  his  fatigue?" 

"  I  thank  you,  Captain  ;  I'm  as  dry  as  a  mummy  " — tak 
ing  a  long  and  relishing  draught-  "  By  jove  !  you  seem 


126  OLD  FORT  DUQUESNE. 

to  be  well  provisioned  out  in  these  backwoods.  That  wine 
was  positively  delicious — never  remember  to  have  tasted 
finer.  Tig  enough  to  tempt  an  Anchorite  or  satisfy  a  Sy 
barite!" 

"  Ma  foi,  but  monsieur  speaks  truth.  'Tis  said  in  France, 
that  his  American  colonies  have  nearly  ruined  Louis — all 
outgo  and  no  income ;  and  you  wouldn't  wonder,  if  you 
knew  the  American  leeches  and  brigands  who  are  spending 
his  blood.  Why,  this  string  of  forts  from  Niagara  to  this 
point,  is  a  very  wonder  for  waste  and  prodigality — all  sorts 
of  fripperies  and  grotesqueries  out  in  this  wilderness;  stuffs 
of  silks  and  velvets;  ladies' slippers  and  damask  shoes; 
silk  stockings  and  the  costliest  wines  of  Spain  and  Italy. 
Mon  Dieu,  you'd  think  they  were  making  ready  for  a 
grand  tour  for  our  king  and  all  his  court  and  grand  dames. 
But  when  and  where  did  you  leave  le  General  Braddock?" 

"  Oh,  some  time  ago,  and  in  the  woods,"  evasively  replied 
Talbot 

"  He  has  a  fine  army.  How  large,  monsieur,  do  you  es 
timate  his  force  ?  We  put  it  at  four  thousand,"  mentioning 
a  figure  far  beyond  the  reality. 

"  Indeed,  Captain,  I  never  counted  it ;  but  taking  the 
regulars  and  provincials  together,  I  should  think  there  was 
— quite  a  force." 

"  We  have  here  great  difficulty  from  keeping  our  Indians 
of  different  tribes  from  quarreling  with  each  other.  Does 
not  your  General  fear  that  his  Catawbas  and  Iroquois — 
who  have  always  been  at  war — will  fall  out  by  the  way  ?  " 

"Oh,  not  at  all,  Captain!  "  answered  Talbot,  with  an  in 
nocent  and  peculiar  smile  (there  were  only  seven  Indians 
with  Braddock,  all  told) ;  "  au  contraire,  they  are  such  ar 
dent  friends,  that  their  affection  extends  to  each  other's 
squaws ;  and  our  great  trouble  is  to  keep  them  from  mis 
taking  their  neighbors'  scalp-locks  for  their  own.  One 


TALBOT    INSIDE   THE   GUARD    HOUSE.  127 

would  think,  Captain,  that  your  own  Indians  were  unruly 
enough  to  engage  your  whole  attention." 

Dumas  bit  his  lips,  trying  to  keep  back  a  smile. 

"  Your  General  moves  very,  very  slow.  We  have  been 
expecting  him  for  weeks.  He  evidently  doesn't  understand 
American  campaigning,  and  has  a  very  formal  and  crowded 
way  of  marching." 

"  As  for  your  expectations,"  replied  Talbot,  "  you'll  not 
be  disappointed  ;  and  he  has  rather  a,  formal  and  crowding 
way  of  marching — into  a  place :  one  like  this,  for  exam 
ple!" 

"  Oh,  you  need  not  think,  milord,  we  are  ignorant  of 
your  army  and  its  doings.  Our  Indian  runners  report  to 
us  nightly.  Your  soldiers  cannot  shoot  a  turkey  or  start 
up  a  rabbit,  but  what  we  know  it  soon  after.  Occasionally 
they  bring  home  a  few  scalps  or  horses." 

"  I  know,  Captain,"  tartly  replied  Talbot,  "  that  our 
army  has  lost  hundreds  of  horses,  and  a  few  stragglers  their 
scalps,  since  it  left  Fort  Cumberland ;  but  I  never  thought 
I  would  find  a  French  officer  of  the  line  boasting  of  these 
deeds  of  cattle-stealers  and  scalp-lifters !  A  residence  in 
this  country  must  be  very  demoralizing  when  a  French 
'  regular '  can  take  pride  in  the  petty  exploits  and  barbar- 
ous^cruelties  of  a  low  lot  of  heathen  savages  ! " 

Dumas  colored  up  to  the  very  roots  of  his  hair,  when 
Talbot,  pursuing  his  advantage,  sharply  continued  : 

"  I  would  have  you  know,  Captain,  that  our  Braddock 
is  by  no  means  the  mere  Irish  soldier  of  fortune  which  some 
deem  him,  but  a  gentleman  of  courage,  honesty  and  capa 
city,  who  has  won  his  honors  by  nearly  fifty  years  of  service. 
He  was  almost  born  into  the  'Cold  Stream  Guards,'  and 
his  and  his  father's  name  appear  on  its  '  roster '  for  seventy 
years.  The '  Guards,'  you  know,  are  our  '  household  troops' 
— the  crack  and  pet  regiment  of  the  country.  Hold  !  Cap 
tain,  were  you  at  the  battle  of  Fontenoy,  in  '45,  fought 


128  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 

between  your  king,  the  Dauphin,  and  Marshal  Saxe,  and 
the  English  and  Dutch  allies,  with  our  Duke  of  Cumber 
land  at  the  lead  ?  " 

"  No,  monsieur,  I  had  not  that  honor  ;  I  am  too  young 
in  the  service." 

"  Well,  Braddock  had  that  honor  ;  and  it  was  an  honor, 
although  our  forces  were  defeated.  'Twas  terrible  slaughter, 
I've  heard.  There  it  was  the  '  Cold  Streams  '  fought  like 
lions,  and  extorted  the  admiration  of  your  own  troops,  no 
less  for  their  furious  and  desperate  charges,  than  for  their 
cool  and  admirable  retreat.  They  lost,  in  that  action,  no 
less  than  two  hundred  and  forty  men  ;  and  for  Braddtick's 
share  in  the  desperate  and  bloody  day,  he  was  first  pro 
moted  to  be  major,  and  shortly  after  lieutenant-colonel  of 
these  famous  '  Cold  Streams.'  'T  is  no  wonder  that  a  forty 
years '  connection  with  such  a  regiment — the  very  perfec 
tion  of  drill  and  discipline — would  make  Braddock  a  rather 
orderly  marcher  ;  you  will  find  him  an  orderly  fighter,  too  ! 
If  you  wish  to  disparage  or  insult  my  general,  Captain,  I 
beg  you  will  do  it  somewhere  else  than  in  my  presence." 

"  Pardon  !  monsieur;  I  do  assure  you  I  meant  no  disre 
spect  to  le  General  Braddock  ;  I  only — " 

"  Pardon  me,  Captain  !  "  excitedly  broke  in  Talbot,  who, 
when  on  the  subject  of  the  favorite  "  Cold  Streams,"  scarce 
knew  where  to  stop.  "  Did  you  ever  hear  how,  at  Fon- 
tenoy,  the  '  Cold  Streams '  were  ordered  to  attack  the 
French  Guards  and  Swiss  combined,  who,  entrenched  and 
in  perfect  confidence  of  victory,  awaited  their  onset  ?  and 
how  they  advanced  right  into  the  jaws  of  death,  composed 
and  steady  as  if  on  parade?  and  how,  as  they  neared  their 
adversaries,  their  officers,  and  Braddock  among  them, 
armed  with  nothing  but  light  rattans,  doffed  their  caps  to 
their  foes,  who  politely  returned  their  salute  ?  '  Gentlemen 
of  the  French  Guards,'  cried  Lord  Charles  Hay,  '  fire  !  if 
you  please ! '  '  Pardon,  monsieur/  replied  your  country- 


TALBOT   INC.IDE   THE   GUARD   HOUSE.  129 

man,  *  the  French  Guards  never  fire  first ;  pray,  fire  your 
selves  ! ' 

"And  they  did  fire,  and  your  ranks  were  mowed  down 
as  ripe  as  grain  before  the  sickle.  Throughout  that  whole 
bloody  day  the  Guards  behaved  with  the  same  steadiness, 
their  officers  in  the  heat  of  the  fight,  with  their  canes 
turning  their  men's  muskets  to  the  right  or  the  left, 
as  they  wished.  Now,  Captain,  when  I  think  of  that 
action  between  tried  and  disciplined  gentlemen  soldiers 
on  both  sides,  and  then  hear  you  talk  with  patience  of  a 
parcel  of  screeching  red  devils,  who  steal  horses,  lay  in  wait 
for  stragglers,  and  who  flay  the  wounded  alive,  and  don't 
even  spare  the  dead,  I  confess,  Captain,  I  am  shocked, 
horrified,  disgusted.  The  times  are  degenerate." 

The  year  before,  the  French  forces  at  the  fort  had  been 
officered  by  such  men  as  Drouillon,  de  Villiers,  Jumonville, 
Chauvignerie,  de  Longueil,  and  last,  though  not  least,  La- 
force — a  man  speaking  several  Indian  tongues,  and  of  extra 
ordinary  influence  among  them.  The  above  were  all  noted 
men  along  the  border — dashing  spirits — fonder  than  the 
Indians  themselves  of  adventure — cooler,  and  more  enter 
prising  than  they. 

They  were  all  of  the  same  tastes  as  those  far-famed 
French  coureurs  des  bois,  or  as  we  would  call  them,  forest- 
rangers  who,  like  Frenchmen  generally,  showed  a  marvel 
lous  facility  in  adapting  themselves  to  circumstances  ;  who 
took  to  the  woods  like  natives ;  who  dressed  like  the  In 
dians  ;  lived,  mingled  and  married  with  them,  and  who 
became  the  progenitors  of  that  celebrated  and  very  pecu 
liar  race  famed  as  Canadian  half-breeds  and  trappers. 

Had  Dumas  known  the  fact,  it  might  have  been  a  suffi 
cient  retort  to  Talbot's  sarcasm,  to  ask  whether  Braddock 
himself  had  not  strenuously  endeavored  to  ally  to  this  very 
expedition,  a  large  body  of  Southern  Catawba  Indians,  and 
whether  he  had  not — as  he  did — publicly  offered  £5  for 
9 


130  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 

every  enemy's  scalp  brought  in  by  either  an  Indian  or  one 
of  his  own  soldiers. 

Those  were  cruel  and  bloody  times,  and  neither  side  was 
very  particular  as  to  the  kind  or  instrument  of  punishment 
on  their  foes.  When  even  the  younger  Penus,  and  Co 
lonial  Council,  could  resolve  to  issue  a  reward  for  Indian 
scalps — £25  for  a  man  or  boy,  and  £10  for  a  woman — it 
may  well  be  supposed  the  times  were  troublous  and  "  out 
of  joint." 

Dumas,  not  knowing  this,  was  content  to  turn  the  subject 
as  best  he  could,  and  conversed  in  a  more  and  more  friendly 
spirit,  until  late  in  the  night,  asking  Talbot  -whether  he 
knew  Monsieur  de  Bouneville  and  daughter,  and  of  their 
picturesque  home  in  the  neighboring  woods.  On  his  com 
panion  stating  he  had  never  heard  of  them,  Dumas  descan 
ted  at  some  length  and  with  considerable  enthusiasm  upon 
the  grace  and  accomplishments  of  the  daughter,  and  the 
engrossing  studies  and  exploits  of  her  venerable  father. 

Captain  Dumas,  at  length  rising  to  go  to  his  quarters, 
concluded  the  interview  by  remarking: 

"  Eh,  bien  !  milord,  AVO  have  had  an  interesting  conversa 
tion,  and  I  would  be  unfeignedly  rejoiced  to  ameliorate 
your  situation.  You  are  confined  here  because  of  your 
rude  and  violent  language  and  conduct  toward  the  com 
mandant  ;  but,  if  you  will  give  me  your  parole  d'honneur 
not  to  escape,  I  will  take  it  on  myself — in  fact,  I  am  re 
quested  by  Sieur  de  Beaujen — to  offer  you  my  own  quar 
ters,  whatever  cl  ange  of  apparel  you  may  need,  and  the 
freedom  of  the  fort  grounds." 

"I  thank  you,  Captain,  from  my  heart;  but  I  cannot 
accept  my  freedom  on  such  conditions.  Were  I  your  pris 
oner,  I  might  consent  at  once  and  freely;  but  if  I  am  to 
be  considered  as  prisoner  to  those  devils  of  Indians,  I  think 
it  my  duty  to  escape  from  their  infernal  clutches  at  the  first 
and  at  every  opportunity." 


TALBOT   INSIDE   THE   GUARD   HOUSE. 


131 


Dumas  mused  awhile,  surveyed  Talbot's  slight  and 
effeminate  person,  and  then  briefly  said  : 

"  Oh,  well,  milord,  come  with  me  !  I'll  risk  your  escape. 
The  whole  matter  between  the  two  forces  will  be  decided 
in  a  very  short  time,  and  one  man,  and  he  an  amateur,  can 
make  but  little  difference.  An  escape  just  now,  with  so 
many  thousands  of  watchful  eyes  about,  would  be  rather 
difficult."  And  then,  in  an  undertone:  "  I  could  almost 
wish  'twere  easier.  I  don't  myself  like  too  much  the  odd 
ways  and  deviltries  of  our  painted  allies  ;  and  rest  assured, 
if  you  feel  like  escaping  out  of  their  cruel  hands,  although 
my  duty  forbids  me  to  aid,  my  inclination  will  equally  for 
bid  my  throwing  many  obstacles  in  your  way.  You 
understand?  Eh?" 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

TALBOT   MAKES   FRIENDS   WITH   SMITH. 

A  plague  of  sighing  and  grief;  it  blows 
A  man  up  like  a  bladder. — Falstaff. 

I  am  one 

Whom  the  vile  blows  and  buffets  of  the  world, 
Have  so  incens'd,  that  I  am  reckless 
What  I  do. 

And  I  another, 

So  weary  with  disasters,  tugg'd  with  fortune, 
That  I  would  set  my  life  on  any  chance 
To  mend  it,  or  be  rid  on't. — Macbeth. 

AND  so  the  two  groped  their  way  past  the  guard,  to  a 
low,  barrack-like  shed,  about  fifty  feet  long,  set  apart  for 
officers.  Here  Talbot  was  duly  introduced  to  the  Sieur  de 
Langlade,  who  had  brought  down  from  the  far  lakes  the 
North-western  Indians  under  Pontiac  and  King  Nis-so-wa- 
quet,  and  to  de  Lignery,  and  was  made  quite  at  home.  (See 
Appendix  K.)  Throwing  himself  on  a  spread  of  bear 
skins,  he  soon  slept  the  sleep  of  the  young  and  the  weary  ; 
nor  did  he  awaken  until  a  broad  bar  of  sunlight  was  thrown 
athwart  his  face  arousing  him  once  more  to  a  sense  of  his 
forlorn  condition. 

After  a  bountiful,  and — considering  the  place — even  a 
luxuriant  breakfast,  and  a  chat  with  the  French  officers, 
Talbot  was  permitted  to  walk  about  the  area  within  the  en 
trenchments,  just  as  and  just  where  he  pleased;  and  you 
132 


TALBOT  MAKES  FRIENDS  WITH  SMITH.  133 

may  be  sure  he  was  all  eyes  at  the  novel  scenes,  inside  and 
outside  the  walls. 

Now  he  inspected  the  troops  and  militia  as  they  were 
drilled  in  squad,  and  afterwards  manoeuvred  outside  on 
the  parade  ground ;  now  he  stood  on  the  ramparts  laud- 
ward,  and  watched  the  numerous  groups  of  Indians  as  they 
gathered  in  noisy  clusters,  attended  to  camp  duties,  engaged 
in  games  and  dances ;  and  now  he  stood  on  the  ramparts 
on  the  two  water  sides,  gazed  up  and  down  the  rivers,  saw 
the  Indian  canoe  races,  watched  the  fishers  as  they  pulled 
in  their  finny  prey  by  line  and  nets  made  from  the  inner 
bark  of  the  tamarac. 

We  have  already  described  the  general  appearance  of 
Fort  Duquesne.  It  is  only  necessary  to  add  some  few  de 
tails,  so  as  to  give  the  reader  a  better  idea  of  the  whole 
enceinte.  It  was  planned  by  monsieur  le  Chevalier  de 
Mercier,  captain  of  artillery,  and  was  built  with  immense 
labor,  having  a  "great  deal  of  strong  works  collected  into 
very  little  room." 

It  was  a  parallelogram  in  form,  its  longer  side  fifty,  and 
its  shorter  about  forty  yards.  The  bastions  and  inner  wall 
were  made  of  very  large  squared  logs,  about  twelve  feet 
high,  and  compactly  filled  in  with  earth  to  the  depth  of 
eight,  thus  leaving  about  four  feet  of  ramparts  to  shelter 
the  plateau. 

The  sides  nearest  the  rivers  were  unprotected  with  bas 
tions,  but  were  fortified  by  a  strong  stockade  twelve  feet 
high,  made  of  logs  a  foot  thick,  and  ingeniously  wattled 
together  with  hickory  poles,  and  having  loop-holes  slanting 
downwards,  cut  in  them  to  enable  the  men  to  fire.  At  a 
distance  of  about  sixty  feet  from  this  inner  wall,  was  a 
shallow  ditch,  completely  environing  the  whole  enceinte, 
and  protected  by  a  second  log  stockade  seven  feet  high, 
which  was  solidly  embanked  with  earth. 

The  main  gate  opened  to  the  northeast.     Immediately 


134  OLD  FORT  DUQUESNE. 

between  its  posterns  was  sunk  a  deep  well,  as  wide  as  the 
gate,  which  gate  was  nothing  but  the  log  drawbridge  itself, 
that  at  night,  or  in  times  of  danger,  was  drawn  up  with 
chains  and  levers.  The  other  and  smaller  gate,  was  on 
the  Allegheny  bank.  Both  were  made  of  logs,  but  the  one 
to  the  northeast  had  a  wicket  cut  in  it,  for  ordinary  use. 
Hard  by  this  were  the  magazine  and  kitchen  ;  the  former 
twenty  by  forty,  built  of  heavy,  hewed  timber,  sunk  deeply 
into  the  ground,  and  covered  for  four  feet  with  a  coating 
of  clay. 

Besides  these,  there  were  other  solid  and  substantial  log 
and  rough  board  houses  within  the  walls — barracks,  store 
houses,  commandant's  residence,  officers'  quarters,  etc., 
while  a  well  was  sunken  in  the  very  centre  of  the  area. 

This  fort  was  considered  strong  enough  in  those  days  to 
resist  not  only  Indian  and  infantry  assaults,  but  even  at 
tacks  with  such  field  pieces  as  were  then  generally  used. 
It  was,  as  stated,  Sir  John  Sinclair's  opinion,  that  the  best 
method  of  subduing  the  post  was  to  erect  a  battery  on  the 
brow  of  Coal  Hill,  which  perfectly  dominated  the  position, 
and  thence,  with  hot  shot,  set  the  buildings  on  fire,  and,  if 
possible,  blow  up  the  magazine.  All  the  artillery  consisted 
of  a  few  cannon — one-half  of  them  three,  and  the  remain 
der  four  pounders.  Five  of  these  were  generally  mounted 
on  the  northeastern  bastion,  defending  the  powder  maga 
zine.  The  ground  about  was  dry,  and  all  the  timber  cut 
away  for  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile,  so  as  to  afford  an  unob 
structed  range  for  the  artillery. 

As  Talbot  thus  carelessly  (to  all  appearance)  sauntered 
about,  peering  into  every  corner,  he  carefully  noted  each 
point,  in  order  not  alone  to  make  a  reliable  map  of  the  fort 
and  its  armature,  but  to  see  how  and  when  an  escape  could 
best  be  effected. 

He  had  just  withdrawn  to  a  point  farthest  removed  from 
all  observation,  when  he  noted  a  sturdy  and  rather  gawk- 


TALBOT   MAKES   FRIENDS    WITH    SMITH.  135 

ish  youth  in  civilian's  clothes,  approaching  him  cautiously 
and  with  an  awkward  gait.  When  near  enough,  the  lout 
ish  but  resolute-looking  lad  carefully  looked  about,  and 
finally  said,  in  English  : 

"  Mr.  Talbot — if  that's  your  name — you  are,  like  me,  a 
prisoner  ;  what  are  you  going  to  do  about  it?  " 

Talbot  started  at  tearing  English  spoken  where  he  sup 
posed  all  were  ignorant  of  that  language,  and  replied : 

"Who  are  you,  my  lad,  and  what's  your  name?" 

"My  name's  Smith — James  Smith  ;  and — " 

"  Smith — Smith — Smith,"  musingly  repeated  Talbot. 
"  I  surely  have  heard  that  classic  name  before ;  and  now 
who  are  you  ? — the  prisoner  of  whom  Captain  Dumas  told 
me  to-day  ?  " 

"  The  same.  I'm  a  Pennsylvania  boy,  and  was  engaged, 
with  three  hundred  more,  in  cutting  a  road  from  Fort 
Loudon  to  join  Braddock's  road  at  a  point  near  the  Tur 
key  Foot,  when,  on  going  back  to  hurry  up  some  provision 
wagons,  my  companion  and  me  were  fired  at  by  three  In 
dians,  from  a  blind  of  bushes.  He  was  killed  outright, 
while  I  escaped  unhurt ;  but  my  horse  making  a  violent 
start,  threw  me,  and  while  thus  entangled,  I  was  taken 
prisoner." 

"  And  how  long  have  you  been  here  ?  You  look  weak 
and  sick.  Haven't  you  been  treated  well  ?  " 

"Here  over  a  month,  and  am  sick.  Greatest  wonder  I 
aiut  dead  and  planted.  I  hadn't  as  good  luck  as  you — 
was  forced  to  run  the  gauntlet  over  exactly  the  same  spot 
that  you  ran  yesterday.  When  I  had  reached  near  the  end 
of  the  lines,  was  knocked  down  by  a  club  or  tomahawk 
handle;  got  up  and  stumbled  on,  but  was  beaten  so  un 
mercifully,  that  I  became  at  length  insensible,  and — 

"The  pitiless  devils!"  cried  Talbot ;"  and  didn't  any 
from  the  fort  interfere  ?  " 

"Never a  one.     The  first  thing  I  remember,  was  being 


136  OLD    FORT   DUQUESNE. 

iu  a  rough  room,  and  a  parlez-vous  doctor  standing  over  me 
opening  a  vein  in  my  arm,  and  washing  my  bruises  \vitk 
brandy." 

"The  ruffians!  And  these  are  your  polite  and  gentle 
manly  French  !  and  what  did  the  pusillanimous  frog-eaters 
do  then  ?  " 

"A  number  of  Indians  surrounded  me,  threatening  me 
with  death  if  I  did  not  tell  the  truth.  They  asked  me  how 
many  men  were  in  our  road-making  party,  and  were  they 
armed.  I  told  them  three  hundred,  that  they  were  well 
armed  (meaning  the  arm  of  flesh),  for  our  whole  party 
had  only  thirty  guns  among  them,  which,  if  the  murderous, 
scalping  varmiuts  had  known,  they  would  have  gone  and 
killed  every  man  of  them  ;  so  that,  although  only  a  boy  of 
eighteen,  I  hope  I  have  done  that  much  good.  'Tis  only 
been  a  week  since  I've  been  out  of  the  hospital."  (See 
Appendix  L.) 

"  Well,"  said  Talbot,  after  a  meaning  pause,  "  I'm  going 
to  throw  back  your  own  question  to  you.  What  are  you 
going  to  do  about  it  ?  " 

"  Well,  stranger,  I've  pretty  well  made  up  my  mind  to 
escape,  and  if  you've  a  notion  to  join  me,  two  heads  are 
better  than  one.  The  Frenchers  tell  me  I'm  a  prisoner  to 
the  Indians  •,  that  they  can't  and  won't  interfere,  and  that 
as  soon  as  I'm  able  to  travel,  my  captor,  Tecangkretanego, 
intends  taking  me,  God  knows  where,  for  adoption  into  his 
tribe.  I  choose  death  to  that." 

"  Good  boy,  you  !     And  you've  given  no  parole?  " 

"Not  a  mite  of  it.  My  youth  and  illness  have  spared 
me  that ;  and  I've  been  allowed  the  range  of  the  fort." 

"  Have  you  planned  any  escape,  Smith  ?  'Twill  be  diffi 
cult  to  get  out  of  this  trap  just  now.  And  yet  I  would 
risk  my  under  scalp  this  time,  to  be  of  some  use  to  Brad- 
dock,  for  the  red-hides  are  gathering  in  great  numbers,  and 
evidently  mean  fight." 


TALBOT  MAKES  FRIENDS  WITH  SMITH.  137 

"  I,"  replied  Smith,  "  have  thought  out  this  plan,  but 
will  allow  there  are  objections  to  it ;  but  I'll  risk  it,  any 
how — this  very  night,  too.  To-morrow,  they  tell  me, 
there's  to  be  a  grand  ball  match  just  outside  the  fort.  In 
dians,  you  know,  are  all  famous  ball-players;  and  the par- 
lez-vous  are  constantly  planning  games,  dances,  foot-races, 
and  amusements  for  them.  Ginger !  they  have  to  do  it,  else 
there  would  be  everlasting  mischief  brewing  between  so 
many  fierce  and  jealous  fellows  from  a  dozen  different 
tribes.  Not  a  day  or  night  but  has  its  dance,  its  conjur 
ing,  or  its  merry  making." 

"  Why,  they  must  be  a  jolly,  careless  set  of  rascals,"  said 
Talbot,  "to  want  so  much  play." 

"  Jolly  !  Jolly  as  a  grave-stone  when  they've  their  '  mad 
up.'  But,  as  I  was  saying,  this  afternoon  two  canoe-races 
take  place  on  the  Allegheny — one  between  two  young  girls 
from  the  Delaware  village  of  Shaunopinstowu,  just  above, 
and  two  others  selected  from  a  Shawnee  village  just  oppo 
site  Shannopiu.  This  is  for  a  silken  scarf  and  a  gilt  comb> 
or  some  kind  of  woman's  head-gear  or  another.  These  are 
to  be  presented  by  the  doctor's  fair  daughter,  the  only  lady 
in  the  fort,  and  a  most  gentle  nurse  she  is,  as  I  can  truly 
witness." 

"  Haven't  seen  her  yet,"  said  Talbot.     "  Is  she  pretty  ?  " 

"  Well,  now,  she  is,  stranger,  you'd  better  believe  it. 
Never  saw  any  in  my  parts  quite  so  taking  and  genteel- 
like.  Has  a  merry  laugh  that  kind  o'  goes  all  over  and 
works  down  into  you  ;  and  the  neatest  little  foot  and  ankle ; 
and  the  tenderest  voice  and  softest  eyes,  that  tickle  under 
your  waistcoat,  and — " 

"Halloo!  hold,  James!  Why  how  you  run  on,  boy'! 
And  what  next?"  asked  Talbot,  almost  forgetting,  in  his 
keen  desire  to  witness  this  race,  that  he  is  planning  an  es 
cape. 


138  OLD  FORT  DUQUESNE. 

"Next — next?  Why,  she's  all  pretty!  Danged  if  she 
isn't  the—  " 

"Oh,  bother  the  girl !  J'ra  asking  what  next  after  the 
Delaware  and  Shawuee  girls?" 

"  Oh  !  "  answered  the  flustered  Smith,  the  light  some 
what  fading  out  of  his  eyes,  and  in  a  vexed  tone ;  "  why 
didn't  you  say  so  ?  Why,  then — let's  see,  where  was  I? — 
oh — then  follows  a  pine  canoe-race,  two  paddles  to  a  side, 
between  four  picked  braves  from  Shingiss'  village  below, 
and  four  others  from  the  Shawnee  village  of  Nymwha." 

"  What !  "  cried  Talbot,  in  the  greatest  glee ;  "  Nymwha  ? 
why,  he's  my  captor  and  new  '  governor.'  Come,  James, 
my  covey,  what  do  you  '  lay  '  on  this  race  ?  I'll  wager  two 
to  one  Nymwha  wins ;  and,  for  the  same  reason,  I'll  take 
the  same  odds  on  the  Shawuee  girls.  I  mustn't  desert  my 
tribe,  my  boy." 

"  But — but,  mister,  you're  forgetting  the  escape." 

"  Confound  it !  so  I  am  ;  but  don't  these  races  come  off 
this  afternoon?  " 

"  Yes;  and  to-morrow,  as  I  said,  the  great  ball  match  takes 
place  between  two  hundred  picked  Ottawas  and  Chippewas, 
led  byPontiac.aud  two  hundred  selected  from  theDelawares, 
Mingoes,  and  Shawnees,  under  Puckeshinwa.  Now,  there 
are  always  great '  medicine'  ceremonies  the  night  before  a 
big  match  conies  off;  all  the  bets  are  then  made,  the  stakes 
laid,  and  the  dances  for  victory  gone  through  with.  These 
will  draw  every  man,  who  can't  go  out  of  the  fort,  to  the 
nearest  rampart.  Expecting  no  immediate  attack,  the  disci 
pline  is  very  slack,  and  the  guards  go  their  rounds  solely  for 
form's  sake.  Down  at  this  angle  there  is  no  guard  at  all, 
while  on  the  whole  Allegheny  side  there  is  but  one,  whose 
beat  is  from  one  bastion  to  the  other,  and  between  the  inner 
and  the  outer  stockades.  Nothing  is  easier  than  to  get 
over  the  two  lines  of  stockades,  and  jump  into  one  of  the 
many  cauoes  at  the  'point,'  if  we  can  only  escape  the 


TALBOT  MAKES  FRIENDS  WITH  SMITH.  139 

guard.     If  I  could  but  talk  French,  think  I  could  man 
age  it." 

"  Hold  !  "  cried  Talbot,  after  a  brief  pause.  "  I've  got 
it,  lad — a  capital  idea !  Why,  I  begin  to  like  this  fort-life. 
Hang  me  if  I  don't  believe  I  was  born  a  strategist !  I 
talk  French  like  a  native  of — England.  Now,  James,  let 
me  propound  a  few  questions,  on  which  I  must  have  '  the 
truth,  the  whole  truth,  and  nothing  but  the  truth  ! '  Ready  ? 
Do  you  know  any  young  cadet  who  looks  like  me? — not  so 
commanding  or  good  looking,  you  know,  but  about  my 
size  and  build  ?" 

"One — little  Jacques  Baptiste,  the  merriest  and  prank- 
iest  jackanapes  of  the  whole  kit  of  them." 

"  Good  !     Could  you  manage  to  get  his  coat  ?  " 
"  Don't  see  how  I  could." 
"  His  cap,  then  ?  " 
"  That  might  be  managed,  but — " 

"No  matter;  we'll  risk  the  clothes,  in  hopes  the  night 

will  be  dark.     Do  you  know  the  guard  who  will  be  on  the 

Allegheny  beat  to-night,  and  what  kind  of  a  cove  he  is?" 

"  I  do,  sir — a   fat,  good-natured  lout,  by  the  name  of 

Meurice — Peer  Meurice." 

"  All  right.  By  Jupiter,  we'll  fix  him  in  a  jiffey — though 
I  think  you  mean  Pierre,  which  is  French  for  Peter.  Now 
listen,  Jim — you  don't  mind  my  calling  you  Jim,  do  you? 
Now,  we  must  separate  just  here, — not  to  be  seen  together 
until  nine  o'clock  to-night;  unless,"  added  Talbot,"  you  want 
to  double  your  bet  on  the  Delaware  squaws,  in  which  case, 
hunt  me  up  at  all  risks.  I'll  go  even  my  wig — which  has 
twice  saved  me — on  the  girls  of  our  village,  you  know." 

"  Mr.  Talbot,"  replied  Smith,  wonderiugly,  "  you  are  an 
odd  fish — not  at  all  the  timid,  girlish  chappy  I  took  ye  for. 
I  kind  o'  thought  ye  cared  for  nothing  but  pretty  clothes 
and  curly  hair." 

"  Why,  look  ye,  James,"  laughingly  replied  the  volatile 


140  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 

Talbot ;  "  the  Scriptures  say  '  there's  a  time  for  all  things.' 
I've  had  my  sad  night  and  morning ;  that's  over.  It  don't 
suit  me.  Now,  in  the  language  of  our  immortal  bard, 
'  Richard's  himself  again  ! '  Do  you  snuff?  No  ?  Sorry — but 
to  return.  Oh,  one  thing  I've  forgotten.  Do  you  know  the 
countersign  to-night  ?  " 

"  Fortunately,  I  do — Scarooyaddy"  whispered  Smith. 

"By  jove!  you  don't  say  so!  How  shocking!  Why, 
that's  my  friend,  the  great  Miugo  chief,  who,  Dumas  tells 
me,  drowned  himself  yesterday  afternoon,  right  over  back 
of  that  island,  after  having  killed  Kustaloge — one  of  the 
best  Shawnee  chiefs." 

"  The  same,  although  I  never  heard  of  him  before  yester 
day  ;  but  his  death  kicked  up  a  terrible  hullabaloo,  both 
inside  and  outside  the  fort." 

"And  well  it  might,  James.  He  was  the  'noblest 
Roman  of  them  all,'  and  it  grieves  me  to  know  he  made 
two  such  gallant  fights  yesterday  only  to  find  a  watery 
grave  at  last ;  but  revenons  a  nos  montons,  as  we  French  say. 
Well,  at  nine  o'clock,  all  inside  the  fort  being  assembled, 
as  you  say,  on  the  nor'-eastern  ramparts,  you  and  I  slip  off 
to  this  angle.  As  soon  as  Pierre — what  did  you  say  his 
name  was? — oh,  Meurice,  is  fairly  on  his  back  stretch,  you 
slip  over  the  ramparts,  make  across  the  interval,  and  jump 
over  the  second  stockade  to  the  beach,  and  have  a  canoe 
ready.  I'll  follow  soon  as  may  be,  and  if  the  guard  stops 
me,  leave  me  to  manage  him.  Don't  want  to  hurt  him,  if 
I  can  cheat  him  with  bastard  French — but  here  comes 
Captain  Dumas,  and,  as  I  live,  with  the  young  lady,  and  I 
must  say,  James,  a  deuced  taut-looking  craft  she  is.  Now, 
my  boy,  mum's  the  word,  and  nine's  the  hour." 

"Eh,  bien !  Milord  Talbot,"  said  Dumas  in  French, 
which  as  usual,  we  translate.  "  I  see  you,  like  all  others, 
are  attracted  by  the  beautiful  views  of  '  la  belle  rividre.' 
How  did  you  find  out  Mr.  Schmitt?" 


TALBOT   MAKES   FRIENDS    WITH    SMITH.  141 

"By  the  law  of  affinity,  I  presume,  Captain,"  said  Tal- 
bot,  taking  off  his  hat  to  the  young  lady.  "  Misery  loves 
company,  you  know.  We  were  just  discussing  the  boat 
races  which  come  off  this  afternoon.  By  the  bye,  Ca'ptain, 
have  you  yet  chosen  your  favorite,  and  would  you  like  to 
make  a  small  wager  with  me?  " 

"  Let  me  first  introduce  you,  milord,  to  Mademoiselle 
Fleury,  the  daughter  of  Dr.  Fleury.  We  know  not  what 
we  would  do,  or  come  to  out  in  this  wilderness,  were  it  not 
for  the  presence  of  this  fair  lady." 

"  Mr.  Smith  has  already  spoken  to  me,  mademoiselle, 
of  your  kind  attentions  to  him,  and,  as  one  in  the  same 
cause,  I  thank  you.  I  scarce  know  whether  to  be  sorry  or 
glad  that  the  like  rude  Indian  ordeal  did  not  throw  me,  too, 
under  your  care." 

"Oh,  milord,"  laughingly  (remembering  the  scene  of  the 
wig)  replied  the  Doctor's  pretty  daughter,  in  the  softest 
and  most  liquid  of  tones,  "  be  most  heartily  glad  !  I  can 
not  and  ought  not  to  give  you  my  opinions  of  the  cruel, 
pitiless  savages,  whom,  it  seems,  we  are  compelled  to  take 
as  our  allies,  but  we  can  change  the  subject.  Is  monsieur 
an  admirer  of  the  beautiful  scenery  of  our  rivers  ?  I  see  he 
has  chosen  a  good  point  from  which  to  take  in  the  tout  en 
semble  of  river,  island,  woods,  and  mountain  ?  " 

"  I  must  confess,  mademoiselle,  that  my  pyes  have  never 
rested  on  a  more  beautiful  scene.  Such  glorious  rivers  as 
here  sweep  past  their  bountiful  currents  are  unknown  in 
my  country." 

"And  in  mine.  To  me  the  luxuriant  and  vividly-green 
foilage,  so  dense  and  varied  and  all-pervading,  lends  an 
additional  charm  to  the  landscape.  I  have  been  here  now 
many  months,  milord,  but  must  confess  I  never  loved  the 
country  until  the  warm  rains  of  spring  awakened  all  those 
hills  and  plains  into  life,  and  covered  all  nature  with  so 
rich  and  beautiful  a  mantle.  I  sometimes  stand  here  of 


142  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 

a  breezy  evening,  looking  out  upon  the  unknown  and  un 
trodden  West,  and  fancy  my  cheeks  are  fanned  by  the 
fresh  airs  from  the  gulf;  and  again,  that  I  can  detect  the 
odors  from  the  flower-gemmed  prairies,  which  our  pioneers 
and  missionaries  tell  us  stretch  away  out  there  for  hundreds 
of  miles — but  I  must  not  sentimentalize.  Captain  Dumas 
tells  me  you  do  not  know  Mademoiselle  de  Bonneville,  who 
lives  in  such  a  picturesque  valley,  and  passes  her  time  iu 
such  a  romantic  manner  near  here." 

"  No,  mademoiselle.  From  his  account,  she  must  be 
very  lovely  and  interesting,  and  her  father  a  singularly 
attractive  character." 

"Believe  me,  monsieur!  they  are.  We  will  probably 
have  them  down  to  the  fort  soon,  and  you  will  then  be 
happy  in  making  their  acquaintance.  I  sometimes  think 
Captain  Dumas,  here,  finds  much  consolation  with  her, 
judging  from  the  increased  frequency  of  his  visits.  When 
ever  he  gets  pensive  or  melancholy,  he  hums  snatches  of 
strange  airs,  deserts  our  poor  company,  and  rushes  off  to 
the  de  Bonnevilles.  I  am  sure,"  she  archly  continued,  "  it 
must  be  the  birds  Marie  draws.  Is  it  not  so,  Captain  ?  " 

"Oh,"  gaily  replied  Dumas^  "I  make  Marie  my  confi 
dante.  Whenever  I  miss  most  my  wife  and  children,  I 
pay  her  the  compliment  of  a  visit,  and  return  back  refreshed 
and  more  contented  with  this  wilderness." 

"  You  make  gallant  speeches  to-day,  Captain.  Married 
men,  however, must  have  their  freedoms.  Milord,  will  you 
take  any  interest  in  the  day's  races?" 

"Oh,  wont  I,  mademoiselle?  I  hear  you  are  to  donate 
the  prizes  to  the  winner.  I  cannot  get  any  ladies'  gloves 
or  whimsies,  out  in  this  wilderness,  but  if  you  could  men 
tion  anything  I  can  procure,  which  would  make  the  races 
more  unusually  interesting,  I  would  be  glad  to  go  Shawnee 
versus  Delaware  in  both  races.  You  may  have  heard,  I 


TALBOT  MAKES   FRIENDS   WITH   SMITH.  143 

am  to  call  old  Nymwha — God  bless  him  and  make  away 
with  him — my  papa." 

"  Well,  while  you  two  are  settling  your  bets,  I  will  leave 
you.  Mademoiselle  will  bring  you  to  my  quarters  by  din 
ner;"  and  so  saying,  Dumas  sauntered  off,  leaving  Talbot 
to  the  attentions  of  the  amiable  young  lady,  who  showed 
him  everything  of  interest  in  and  about  the  fort,  and 
brought  him  back  to  Dumas'  quarters  as  fresh  as  a  daisy, 
and  as  gay  as  a  lark. 

By  three  o'clock,  everything  in  and  about  the  fort  be 
tokened  preparations  for  the  amusements  of  the  evening. 
A  slight  shower  had  intervened,  and  never  did  the  three 
rivers  and  their  surroundings  present  a  fresher  or  more 
lovely  appearance.  Everywhere  the  eye  wandered — 
over  hill,  plain  and  valley — was  a  boundless  sea  of  bright, 
emerald  verdure,  while  the  clear  air  above  was  free  from 
all  stain  of  smoky  impurity. 

The  fame  of  these  canoe-races  and  the  approaching 
grand  ball  match,  had  spread  far  and  near;  and  canoes 
filled  with  the  warriors,  squaws,  girls,  and  even  children, 
from  all  the  Indian  villages  up  and  down  the  three  rivers 
for  a  distance  of  many  miles,  could  be  seen  on  the  streams, 
converging  about  the  starting  point  on  the  Allegheny,  just 
opposite  the  river  gate  of  the  fort. 

It  was  a  wise  and  shrewd  device,  these  various  amuse 
ments  which  were  set  on  foot  just  at  this  juncture  by  Beau- 
jeu.  Notwithstanding  his  manifest  influence  over  the 
heterogeneous  gathering  of  Indians,  it  required  all  the  art 
and  address  of  which  he  was  master,  to  keep  them  well  in 
hand.  So  many  fierce,  wild  and  untamed  spirits,  accus 
tomed  to  brook  no  control ;  jealous  of  each  other;  subject 
to  no  drill  or  discipline ;  going  and  coming  at  their  own 
will,  were  liable  to  scatter,  or  to  do  something  unexpected 
and  unwished  for,  just  at  the  critical  moment. 

A   feverish   and    unrestful   spirit,  too,  had   lately  been 


144  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 

growing  among  them.  As  runner  after  runner  came  in  to 
report  the  size,  the  progress,  and  the  character  of  Brad- 
dock's  army,  now  marching  steadily,  dauntlessly  forward 
day  by  day  ;  overcoming  all  obstacles;  bridging  ravines; 
crashing  their  way  through  forests;  wading  thigh-deep  in 
morasses ;  letting  down  from  craggy  heights  their  cannon 
and  mortars  and  cohorns  by  block  and  tackle ;  all  this 
meant  business.  It  looked  like  dead  earnest.  The  Indians 
saw  it  and  felt  it.  It  was  rapidly  producing  a  demoraliz 
ing  effect.  Some  of  the  far- West  and  Canada  bands  began 
to  whisper  and  waver;  those  nearer  home  to  count  the  cost 
and  grow  lukewarm.  It  was  not  their  quarrel;  let  the 
English  and  French  fight  it  out. 

It  was  then  a  timely  craft  in  the  French  to  appear  to 
ignore  Braddock  ;  to  affect  to  despise  his  slowly  but  steadily 
approaching  battalions,  and  to  deport  themselves  as  though 
victory  was  sure,  and  so  the  French  flags  were  flung  to  the 
breeze,  the  cannon  roared  oftener  than  usual,  the  drills  and 
parades  occurred  daily,  and  all  sorts  of  amusements  were 
planned  to  divert,  occupy  attention,  and  banish  apprehen 
sion. 


CHAPTER  XXIIL 

TWO   INDIAN   CANOE-RACES. 

Her  feet,  as  light  as  nimble  deers', 

Are  winged  with  love's  elastic  fears; 

Her  moccasins,  adorned  with  quills, 

Tread  soft  as  morning  o'er  the  hills; 

Iler  glossy  braids  of  raven  hair, 

Are  floating  'round  her  shoulders  bare; 

Her  swelling  bosom  tinged  with  hue 

Of  sunny  brown,  has  felt  the  dew; 

And  gaudy  scarf  of  crimson  dye, 

Obscures  its  beauty  from  the  eye ; 

About  the  waist  a  beaded  belt, 

Suspends  a  skirt  of  modest  felt ; 

Her  rounded  limbs,  of  tapering  mould, 

Disdain  protection  from  the  cold. — Orpheus  Everts. 

As  four  o'clock  drew  near,  the  whole  scene  was  exceed 
ingly  animated.  The  junction  of  the  rivers  seemed  fairly 
alive  with  elm,  birch,  and  pine  canoes,  as  also  with  tho 
larger  batteaux  and  perogues,  carrying  twenty  or  thirtj 
each,  which  had  conveyed  troops  and  Indians  down  from 
French  creek.  All  kinds  of  craft  darted  hither  and  thither, 
their  excited  occupants  betting,  laughing  and  shouting; 
now  and  then  collisions  and  upsets  would  occur,  and  parties 
•>f  both  sexes  and  all  ages,  would  splutter  around  in  the 
water,  amid  the  merry  shouts  and  laughs  of  both  shore  and 
water  crowds. 

Indeed,  the  whole  scene  could  be  said  to  differ  but  little 
in  its  essential  features  from  a  boat-race  as  witnessed  on 
the  same  rivers  'ow,  except  that  very  many  of  the  canoes 
10  145 


146  OLD    FOHT    DUQUESNE. 

were  paddled  by  squaws  and  girls,  while  the  crowds  along 
the  Allegheny  shores  were  swarthy,  painted,  and  half-naked 
savages,  instead  of  well-dressed  citizens  with  their  wives  or 

O        * 

sweethearts.  There  were  the  Cauhnewagas  from  Canada ; 
the  Ottawas,  Chippewas  and  llurons  from  the  lakes;  the 
Piankashaws  and  Twightwees  from  the  Miami  and  Musk- 
ingum  ;  the  Shawnees  and  Delnwares  from  adjacent  parts, 
and  a  plentiful  sprinkling  of  Mingo  or  Iroquois  stragglers, 
fighting  on  their  own  hook — famed  chieftains,  grim-visaged 
warriors,  sage  and  dignified  counsellors;  and  then  there 
was  the  rude  but  massive  Fort  Duquesne,  with  its'  banner 
fluttering  to  the  breeze  ;  the  mounted  cannon  on  the  bas 
tions  ;  the  ramparts  on  the  river  side  crowded  with  gaily- 
dressed  French  officers,  regulars,  Canadians,  cadets,  aud 
some  few  invited  Indian  chiefs ;  and  at  one  point,  Dr. 
Fleury,  his  fair  daughter,  with  the  prizes  of  victory  in  h(;r 
bauds,  Dumas  leaning  carelessly  against  one  of  the  guns, 
and  our  little  friend  Talbot,  his  eyes  fairly  dancing  with 
excitement,  and  with  the  spirit  of  a  true  "sport,"  ready  to 
wager  all  he  had,  even  to  his  fancy  boots,  velvet  coat, 
and  much-prized  wig,  on  the  issue  of  the  day. 

But,  hark !  the  deep  boom  of  a  cannon  is  heard,  awaken 
ing  a  series  of  echoes  from  the  hills  around,  and  is  immedi 
ately  followed  by  a  loud  shout  from  all  on  shore  and  water. 
It  is  the  signal  for  the  contestants  to  get  ready.  All  is 
commotion.  The  huddled  canoes  begin  to  scatter,  and  two 
light,  graceful  birches,  with  a  couple  of  girls  in  -each, 
standing  erect  in  either  end,  rapidly  glided  toward  the 
starting-point,  which  was  a  single  canoe  anchored  a  few 
rods  out. 

They  were  simply  but  modestly  clad — gay  moccasins, 
quilled  leggings,  a  bright-hued  skirt  or  tunic,  a  white  shirt 
over  the  upper  part  of  their  persons,  crimson-  scarfs,  pre 
sented  by  the  fort  officers,  about  their  waists,  and  their 
long  black  hair  streaming  down  their  backs,  kept  in  posi- 


TWO    INDIAN    CAXOE-RACE8.  147 

tion  by  velvet  bands.  It  was  a  beautiful  and  picturesque 
sight,  and  as  the  light  paddles  dipped  in  the  water  and  the 
bodies  swayed  in  unison,  a  universal  shout  came  from  the 
delighted  spectators. 

"  By  jove !  isn't  it  perfectly  splendid  ?  "  cried  the  excited 
Talbot.  "  And,  mademoiselle,  do  but  just  look  at  that 
graceful  young  girl  in  the  front  canoe ;  she's  as  lithe  as  a 
leopard.  Did  you  ever  see  such  grace  and  such  a  figure  ? 
Look !  look  !  how  she  sweeps  her  paddle  and  throws  back 
her  hair !  Don't  you  wish  old  Braddock  was  here  ?  He's 
a  judge  of  fine-looking  girls.  I  lay  you  five  guineas  that 
girl's  Shawnee ;  why,  who  knows,  maybe  she's  a  sister  of 
mine,  or  still  better,  a  cousin.  Hurrah  1  Who  knows  ? 
Where's  Father?" 

"  There  you  mistake,  milord.  She  wears  the  Delaware 
colors,  and  it's — no,  it  cannot  be — why,  yes,  it  is—  she'a 
WTau-ki-na,  the  '  bounding  fawn,'  and  daughter  of  Captain 
Pipe!" 

"And  who  the  devil's  Wau-ki-na?"  shouted  Talbot. 
"  Oh,  pardon,  mademoiselle !  I  thought  for  the  mo 
ment  I  was  with  our  fellows  on  the  Thames.  Well,  if  any 
body  had  told  me,  three  days  ago,  that  I'd  be  swearing  and 
betting  in  an  enemy's  fort,  and  at  an  Indian  girl's  boat- 
race,  I'd  a  given  him  the  lie  and  struck  him !  By  the  lord 
Harry,  but  this  is  a  great  country !  Oh,  if  only  Lady 
Grace—" 

But  the  boom  of  another  cannon  cut  off"  all  further  con 
versation,  and  the  two  birches  bounded  forward  like  met 
tled  coursers  on  their  race.  The  yells  and  screeches  which 
then  went  up  from  the  throats  of  the  half-crazy  Indians, 
were  something  to  remember  for  life.  They  jumped,  and 
danced,  and  surged  along  the  shore,  shouting  aud  shriek 
ing  until  the  very  hills  around  were  full  of  echoes.  The 
course  was  up  to  Shannopinstown,  the  Delaware  village 
about  two  miles  above  the  fort.  Few  were  content  to  stand 


148  OLD    FORT    DUQUE8.VE. 

still,  but  all  kept  moving  along  the  shore,  keeping  abreast 
of  the  boats,  which  were  rapidly  shooting  up  the  stream, 
the  paddles  dipping  in  swift,  short,  nervous  strokes.  It 
was  wonderful. 

"  Oh,  well  I "  cried  Talbot,  "  I  can't  stand  this,  you 
know  !  I'm  going  to  follow  the  boats.  It  looks  confound 
edly  just  now  like  Shawnee  was  going  to  lose.  That  Wau- 
ki-na,  as  you  call  her,  has  a  mighty  dexterous  stroke  of  her 
own.  Just  look  how  she  bends  to  it!  By-by,  I'm  off" — 
and  Talbot  was  actually  moving  away,  his  eyes  fixed  on 
the  boats,  when  Dumas  touched  him  on  the  shoulder,  and 
said :  "  Not  this  time,  milord ;  you  forget  you're  a  pris« 
oner." 

Talbot  gazed  at  him  with  a  most  ludicrously-puzzled 
expression.  "  Prisoner  ?  Why  so  I  am  !  But  I  pledge 
you  the  word  of  a  gentleman,  Captain,  an  escape  just  now, 
never  so  much  as  crossed  my  mind.  Just  let  me  follow  up 
this  race,  and  I  give  you  my  parole  d'honneur,  I'll  be  back 
in  half  an  hour." 

"  What !  and  leave  mademoiselle  ? " 

" No  more ;  I  stay,  but  what  shall  we  do?  Let's  double 
the  bets  all  round — though  I  fear  Wau-ki-na  is  going  to 
win.  Who  did  you  say  she  was  ?  What  a  figure !  and 
what  soft,  luxuriant  hair  I " 

"  Why,  milord,  she's  the  young  Indian  girl  I  told  you 
of  who  has  kept  Marie  de  Bonneville  company  since  May. 
1  know  she's  the  best  swimmer  and  dancer,  and  most  ex 
pert  paddler  of  her  village.  Why,  I'm  told  she  fairly 
lives  in,  or  on  the  water ;  but  how  came  she  in  this  race  ? 
Did  you  not  see  her  with  Marie,  Captain  Dumas,  night  be 
fore  last?" 

"  Most  assuredly ;  and  Marie  never  talked  of  sending 
her  home.  I've  got  it !  Marie  has  concluded  to  take  my 
advice,  and  will  come  to  the  fort  this  very  evening  1  "Tis  the 
very  best  thing  she  could  do." 


TWO   INDIAN   CANOE- RACES.  H9 

Thus  passed  the  time  away  until  the  noise  along  shore, 
and  the  returning  flotilla  of  boats  denoted  the  approach 
of  the  two  canoes.  On  and  on  they  came,  accompanied 
by  the  same  surging,  jostling  and  shouting  throngs  of 
Indians.  It  was  now  clear  to  all  that  the  Delaware  girla 
were  fully  four  or  five  clean  lengths  ahead.  Now  thej 
are  abreast  of  the  fort,  the  stroke  of  the  paddles  a  trifle 
slower  but  none  the  less  steady  than  that  with  which  they 
started  out. 

And  now  the  goal  is  reached,  and  such  a  shout  arose  as 
frightened  the  very  eagles  around  from  their  eyries.  The 
winning  boat  was  again  proceeding  up  stream,  when  just  as 
it  was  abreast  the  water-gate,  she  who  was  called  Wau-ki- 
na  rose  erect  and  curved  her  paddle  in  graceful  salutation 
to  Fleury's  daughter,  who  could  be  distinctly  seen  on  the 
bastion. 

A  motion  was  immediately  made  for  her  to  approach, 
when  with  a  single,  quick  sweep  of  the  paddles,  the  prow 
of  the  canoe  was  turned  to  shore,  and  soon  after  struck  the 
strand.  Wau-ki-na  and  the  other  girl  stepped  out,  and 
approached  the  gate,  where  stood  Dumas,  who  led  them 
directly  up  to  where  the  Doctor,  his  daughter,  Talbot,  de 
Beaujeu,  and  almost  all  the  officers  had  assembled. 

Mademoiselle  Fleury  hastened  forward  and  caught  her 
hand  and  warmly  pressed  it,  saying  in  French. 

"  Here,  Wau-ki-ua,  take  the  prizes  which  I  most  gladly 
give  you.  No  more  modest  or  more  worthy  Indian  girl 
have  I  ever  seen.  I  am  so  rejoiced  you  are  its  winner," 
and  she  fastened  a  beautiful  silken  sash  about  her  waist, 
and  inserted  a  rich  tortoise-shell  comb,  rimmed  with  gol;l, 
in  the  tresses  of  her  hair. 

Nothing  could  exceed  the  captivating  grace  with  which 
Wau-ki-na  bowed  to  receive  her  gifts.  Her  slight,  girlish 
form,  the  delicacy  of  her  features,  the  modest  down-cast  of 
her  ej'es,  rxtorted  the  admiration  of  all.  If  she  had  been 


150  OLD   FORT    DUQUE8NE. 

born  and  raised  in  Louis'  Court,  she  could  not  have  com 
ported  herself  more  easily  or  appropriately.  When  her 
older  and  darker-hued  companion  had  received  her  pres 
ents,  Wau-ki-na  raised  her  eyes  somewhat,  and  said  in  soft 
tones  and  broken  English — or  English  that  was  more  bent 
than  broken. 

"  You  know,  lady,  me  no  talk  French,  me  talk  pretty 
much  English." 

"English,  do  you,  Wau-ki-na?"  hastily  broke  in  Tal- 
bot,  who  had  almost  abashed  the  girl  with  his  earnest 
and  admiriug  looks.  "  That's  my  language,  and  between 
you  and  me,  worth  a  dozen  of  the  mincing,  prattling,  die- 
away  sort  of  tongues  which  these  Johnny  Crapeaus  talk. 
English  is  a  language  for  full-grown  men, —  don't  you  think 
so?"  rising  to  his  utmost  stature,  which  our  readers  will 
remember  was  not  very  much  of  a  rise. 

"  Me  no  very  well  understand.  Miss  Marie  talk  both, 
and  they  come  sweet  from  her  lips,  all  two." 

"  And  where  is  Marie,  little  one  ?  Is  she  coming  to  the 
fort?" 

Wau-ki-na's  eyes  filled  with  tears  as  she  answered  in  the 
saddest  of  tones,  and  scarce  able  to  restrain  herself  from 
sobbing. 

"  Ah,  no !  me  know  not ;  me  must  be  very  bad.  Thia 
morning  Marie  put  her  arms  around  Wau-ki-na's  neck, 
and  cry  very  much,  and  tell  me  I  must  go  home,  my 
father  want  me.  I  drop  the  big  tears  all  day.  Cannot 
live  away  from  Marie  ;  she  like  mother  to  me." 

"  And  who  was  with  her,  Wau-ki-na  ?  "  said  Talbot. 

"  Why  you  ask  ?  Maybe  you  no  friend  to  Marie  and 
Edward." 

"  Never  saw  her  in  my  life — don't  know  her,  but  she's 
English  and  I'm  English,  and  come  from  Edward  Brad- 
iock.  Is  he  the  Edward  you  mean  ?  " 

"  From  Brsddock  ?  "  and  a  bright  intelligent  look  passed 


TWO    INDIAN    CANOE-RACES.  151 

over  the  girlish,  guileless  face,  and  she  continued  more 
cautiously  and  in  lower  tones,  "  Ah,  then  you  know  Jack, 
Marie's  Edward — Captain  Jack  ?  " 

"  Jack — Edward !  what  can  the  little  puss  mean  ?  Phew ! 
the  devil,"  and  then  a  long  whistle.  "  I  see  it  all  now ;  and 
was  Captain  Jack  with  Marie  to-day?  " 

"  Yes,  and" — lower  still — "  Scarooyaddy,  too." 

"  Oh,  no,  Wau-ki-na,  that  wont  do !  Scarooyaddy's 
drowned,  cut  into  small  hits  hy  the  fishes." 

"  No  drowned ;  both  with  Marie,  I  tell  you  I  Now  me 
want  to  go." 

"  It  strikes  me,  milord,"  broke  in  Dumas,  "  that's  an 
interesting  conversation  you  are  carrying  on  in  English. 
Are  you  making  love  to  the  girl  ?  " 

"No,  Captain,  but  'twouldn't  be  hard  to  do — such 
beauty,  and  grace,  and  artlessuess.  I  never  saw  the  like. 
She  wants  to  go  home.  You  stay  here,  I'll  just  run  down 
with  her  to  the  canoe." 

"  But,  monsieur,"  laughingly  replied  Dumas,  "  You  for 
get  you  are  a  prisoner,  and  can't  leave  the  fort." 

"  Oh,  curse  your  confounded  fort,  and  every  Frenchman 
in  it !  Well,  then,  take  her  down  yourself.  When  I  want 
to  leave  this  old  trap,  I  wont  blab  it  to  all  the  world,  I 
warn  you.  Good  bye,  Wau-ki-na,  and  may  we  meet 
again." 

So  saying  and  giving  her  wee  hand  a  warm  and  cordial 
pressure,  Talbot  turned  on  his  heel  and  left  the  group, 
taking  care  to  follow  her  with  admiring  glances  long 
after  she  had  entered  her  canoe  and  again  took  to  bei 
piuldlei. 


CHAPTER   XXIV. 

THE  SECOND   RACE,  AND    BALL   MATCH. 

When  the  redman  ruled  the  wood 

And  his  frail  canoe  yon  flood, 

Hast  thou  held  th'  unerring  bow; 

That  the  antlered  head  laid  low  ? 

And  in  battle's  fearful  strife 

Swung  the  keen,  remorseless  knife? — Luella  Cc»e. 

BY  tliis  time  all  was  ready  for  the  second  race.  Two 
long  and  shapely  pine  canoes,  one  with  Shingiss'  picked 
crew  of  Delawares,  and  the  other  with  Nymwhas'  four  of 
Shawnese,  shot  up  to  the  start.  The  upper  portion  of  their 
bodies  entirely  nude,  and  their  tawny,  polished  skins  glist 
ening  in  the  declining  sun,  the  contestants  offered  as  fine  a 
show  of  brawn  and  muscle,  of  perfect  proportions  and 
litheness  of  movement,  as  were  ever  displayed  in  sculptor's 
studio. 

Again  the  deep  boom  of  the  cannon,  and  almost  before 
its  echoes  could  be  given  back  from  the  hills,  the  two  pines 
were  off  like  a  shot,  amid  the  same  shore  clamor  and  tumult. 
The  paddles  dipped  in  perfect  unison,  and  in  certain  har 
mony  with  a  wild  Indian  chant,  which  put  those  of  the 
same  tribes  as  the  paddlers  beside  themselves  with  excite 
ment.  The  chants,  with  their  singular  refrains,  each  end 
ing  with  a  loud  and  shrill  shriek,  were  soon  dropped,  and 
the  young  and  supple  fellows  bent  to  their  work  in  dead 
earnest.  On !  on !  they  sped,  and  now  they  are  clear  out  of 
eight,  followed  by  shouting,  yelling  and  swaying  crowds  oi 

Delawares  and  Shawnees. 
152 


TOE   SECOND    RACE,  AND    BALL   MATCH.  153 

Talbot  did  not  take  the  same  interest  in  this  as  in  the 
other  race.  He  sauntered  off  by  himself,  only  returning 
when  the  shouts  and  increasing  clamor  gave  token  of  the 
"home  stretch,"  and  it  was,  indeed,  a  stretch,  and  a  most 
desperate  struggle  for  victory.  The  light  craft  were  so  near 
together  that  a  blanket  would  have  covered  both.  The 
poor  fellows  appeared  greatly  distressed.  The  beaded  agony 
stood  out  upon  their  brows.  The  work  was  too  terrible  to 
last.  Just  before  reaching  the  goal,  one  of  the  Delawares 
wavered,  the  paddle  trembled  in  his  nerveless  hand,  and  he 
sank  into  the  canoe  utterly  exhausted.  Even  thin  only  gave 
the  victory  to  the  Shawnees  by  a  single  length. 

The  excitement  among  the  rival  tribes  on  shore  was  aw 
ful.  It  was  nearly  ending  in  a  regular  battle,  so  deeply 
were  their  feelings  enlisted.  The  races  were  now  over.  The 
canoes,  as  well  as  the  surging  crowds  began-  to  scatter,  and, 
just  as  the  sun  sank  in  a  crimson  glory  behind  the  western 
hills,  all  the  fort  guns  belched  forth  their  fire  together,  fill 
ing  the  whole  heavens  with  reverberating  roar. 

The  beaten  party  stopped  not,  but  silent  and  crestfallen 
made  their  way  past  Smoky  Island,  and  down  the  Ohio  to 
King  Shiugiss'  camp.  The  victors,  however,  were  beckoned 
to  the  fort,  and  there  a  new  rifle  and  tomahawk  were  pre 
sented  to  each,  accompanied  by  some  complimentary  words 
from  de  Beaujeu,  the  commandant.  And  thus  ended  a 
most  exciting  day  for  all  parties. 

After  partaking  of  refreshments,  Talbot  accompanied 
Dumas,  de  Lignery  and  other  officers  to  the  easterly  bastion, 
where  a  hum  and  stir  were  already  noticeable  among  the 
large  assemblage  of  Indians.  They  had  just  finished  their 
simple  meal,  and  were  gathered  all  over  the  plains  in  front 
of  the  fort  in  excited  little  knots  of  talkers.  There  must 
have  been  over  a  thousand  of  them,  laughing,  shouting  and 
gesticulating.  Their  blood  was  up,  as  it  were ;  famed  chiefs 
ar-1  brave  warriors,  old  and  wrinkled  counsellors,  and  young 


154  OLD    FORT   DUQUESITE. 

nthletes  out  upon  their  first  war-path.  The  grand  bull 
match,  in  which  the  far-western  tribes  were  to  be  pitted  in 
desperate  struggle  against  those  living  about  the  Ohio,  was 
to  commence  at  nine  of  the  next  day,  July  the  7th,  and 
now  the  preliminaries,  and  ceremonies  which  invariably 
preceded  a  great  match  of  this  kind,  were  about  to  commence. 

As  the  shades  of  a  moonless  night  gradually  fell  upon 
all  nature,  wrapping  hill,  plain,  river  and  fort  in  gloom,  the 
Indian  camp  fires,  which  were  scattered  in  a  semi-circle  all 
along  the  edge  of  the  woods  from  river  to  river,  and  at  a 
short  quarter  of  a  mile's  distance  from  the  fort,  were  fed 
with  fat  woods  and  shot  their  flames  high  into  the  air. 
Groups  of  dusky,  sinewy,  half-naked  warriors  moved  to  and 
fro,  their  forms  now  in  strong  light  and  now  in  shadow. 
Then  appeared  lighted  pine  knots  in  the  hands  of  many,  as 
they  moved  across  and  around  the  plain.  Soon  the  mo 
notonous,  muffled  tum-tum-tum  of  the  rude  Indian  drums 
rose  from  the  various  parts  of  the  ground,  ever  and  anon 
interspersed  with  a  wild,  shrill  chant  from  the  squaws,  who 
had  come  up  to  the  show  from  the  neighboring  villages. 

Altogether,  this  strange  night  scene  was  one  of  extraor 
dinary  weirdness  and  fascination,  and  all  the  inmates  of  the 
fort,  except  only  such  as  were  on  duty,  crowded  the  nearest 
line  of  ramparts  and  gazed  at  the  large  concourse  of  wild 
and  untamed  <*avages,  with  some  such  heart-in-throat  feel 
ing  as  we  of  a  later  day  watch  the  serried  battalions  of  a 
great  army,  with  its  banners,  gleaming  bayonets,  and  heavy, 
regular  tramp,  tramp,  tramp  of  feet.  None  could  remain 
unmoved ;  some,  and  Talbot  amoug  the  number,  were  fairly 
appalled. 

And  naturally  so.  There  was  such  a  dread  power  of  sav- 
ageness  and  fatal  mischief  slumbering  'mid  those  wild, 
dusky,  swarthy  groups.  Now  they  were  all  harmony  and 
|-o<>d  humor,  but  one  exciting  speech  from  a  great  chief;  a 
bad  onieu  from  one  of  their  "  medicine  "  men ;  a  fabe  su» 


THE   SECOND   RACE,  AND    BALL   MATCH.  155 

picion  harbored  in  those  jealous,  unreasoning  minds ;  oven 
the  distribution  of  a  keg  of  rum,  would  turn  that  whole 
assemblage  into  a  pack  of  ruthless  hell-hounds — a  seething 
mass  of  pitiless,  yelping  and  scalping  demons,  sparing  neither 
sex,  age,  nor  condition. 

But  now  the  preparations  for  the  match  have  com 
menced.  First,  a  level  piece  of  ground  right  in  front  of 
the  great  gate  of  the  fort  was  carefully  selected ;  at  either 
end,  and  about  three  hundred  yards  apart,  were  erected  two 
saplings  twenty  feet  high,  and  six  feet  between,  with  a  con 
necting  pole  on  top.  These  for  the  bases.  In  the  centre, 
uetweeu  the  two  goals,  was  inserted  a  small  stake. 

At  this  point,  umpires — aged  chiefs  selected  by  both  par 
ties — were  to  toss  up  the  ball,  the  endeavor  of  each  side 
oeing  to  force  it  through  their  own  wicket  by  means  of  a 
net  of  thongs  drawn  across  the  bend  of  a  stick,  like  the 
modern  shinny  stick.  No  player  was  allowed  to  strike  the 
ball  or  touch  it  with  hands,  or  aught  else  beside  the  netted 
stick.  An  old  "medicine"  man  now  drew  a  straight  line 
from  one  wicket  to  the  other,  across  which,  as  soon  as  done, 
all  rushed  forward  to  make  their  bets,  choose  stakeholders, 
and  deposit  their  wagers.  As  almost  everybody  betted,  and 
especially  the  squaws,  the  quantity  of  moccasins,  wampum, 
morris-bells,  pipes,  strouds,  knives,  tomahawks,  rifles,  and 
what  not,  was  immense.  These  piles  were  to  be  watched  all 
night  by  the  stakeholders. 

The  two  champions,  Pontiac,  for  the  western,  and  Pucke- 
sl.inwa,  a  noted  Shawnee  chief  from  the  Suwanee,  Florida, 
and  father  of  the  afterwards  famous  Tecumseh  (then  un 
born),  for  the  tribes  about  the  Ohio,  had,  during  the  day, 
carefully  selected  the  most  expert  and  famous  players,  by 
taking  around  a  ball-stick  painted  red,  decorated  with 
feathers,  and  with  it  touching  each  one  chosen,  who,  on 
this  stick  promised  to  be  on  hand  at  the  hour. 

Now  commenced  the  "  Ball  Play  Dance."     At  beat  of 


156 


OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 


drum  and  amid  the  chantings  of  the  women,  all  playen 
thus  selected,  assembled  at  their  respective  wickets,  and 
danced  and  leaped  and  howled  around  them,  rattling  thei* 
ball-sticks  together,  and  occasionally  breaking  out  with 
sharp  yelps  and  shrill  shrieks.  The  squaws,  too,  who  had 
goods  at  stake,  formed  into  two  rows  on  each  side  the  "  bet 
ting  line,"  and  danced  with  uniform  step  and  with  a  low 
monotonous  chant,  while  the  umpires  who  were  to  toss  the 
ball  and  decide  disputes,  assembled  about  the  central  stake, 
smoking  to  the  Great  Spirit  for  victory  and  for  wisdom  to 
decide  aright. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

ESCAPE   OF   TALBOT   AND   SMITH. 
Help!  masters,  Here's  a  goodly  watch,  indeed  I — Othello 

Junca. — I  would  outnight  you,  did  nobody  eorne, 
But,  bark  1  I  hear  the  footing  of  a  man. 

Merchant  of  Venice. 

WHILE  all  iu  the  fort  were  intent  on  these  novel  anc  fen- 
tastic  ceremonies,  Tulbot  had  managed  occasionally  to  ex 
change  signals  with  Smith,  and  about  nine  of  the  evening 
both  quietly' withdrew  from  the  parapet,  and  wended  their 
several  ways  to  the  western  angle  of  the  fort — the  point 
nearest  the  junction  of  the  rivers.  Here  they  met,  both 
excited  yet  determined. 

"  Well,  here  we  are,  James !  So  far,  so  good.  The  night 
favors  us.  Do  you  see  Meurice?  " 

"No,  but  I  hear  his  low  whistle  along  his  beat.  A  fellow 
couldn't  see  his  own  nose  on  such  a  night." 

"Well,  now — hold  till  you  hear  the  whistle  moving  up 
stream,  then  slip  over  the  stockade  and  creep  along  till  you 
come  to  the  water  line.  'Tis  an  easy  thing  to  jump;  make 
straight  for  a  canoe  and  I'll  be  after  you  in  a  wink.  Now'a 
your  time  ;  go — go  !  and,  for  God's  sake,  be  cautious — one 
misstep  and  we're  lost !  " 

"I'm  over,"  whispered  Smith.  "Don't  forget  you're 
Jacques  Baptistc,  should  Pierre  challenge  you." 

157 


158  OLD    FORT     DL'QUESXE. 

"Yes,  yes,  never  fear!  Leave  him  to  me.  I'll  fool  him 
to  the  '  top  o'  his  bent,'  but  he  wont  challenge.  I'm  too 
dev'lish  sly." 

Talbot  anxiously  watched  the  lad  as  he  dropped  dowi 
from  the  log  stockade,  and  disappeared  in  the  darkness 
When  Meurice  had  gone  two-thirds  of  his  beat,  Talbot  pre 
pared  to  follow.  Letting  himself  hung  by  his  hands  from 
the  coping  of  the  parapet,  and  shutting  his  eyes  tight,  he 
dropped.  It  was  a  matter  of  some  seven  feet,  or  should  have 
been,  had  Talbot  made  it,  but  he  didn't.  Right  beneath 
him  a  thick  limb  projected  for  a  foot,  at  an  acute  angle 
from  one  of  the  big  upright  logs  forming  the  stockade,  and 
down  into  this  narrow  crotch  came  Talbot,  kerchunk — 
wedged  so  tight  he  could  scarce  move. 

"Curse  the  luck!"  muttered  Talbot  in  despair,  "I'll  bet 
a  guinea  this  is  the  only  crotch  around  the  whole  fort,  and 
'twill  about  finish  my  clothes,  too.  I  hear  Meurice's  whistle 
coming,  and  me  hanging  astraddle  this  sawed  limb  as  tight 
as  a  clothes-pin.  By  the  lord  Harry,  but  it  hurts!  "  and 
the  plucky  little  fellow  squirmed,  and  twisted,  and  wrig 
gled,  until  finally  he  got  one  thigh  over  the  crotch,  and 
stumbled  to  the  ground  like  a  possum — on  what  part  of  his 
body  he  could  never  tell.  The  first  thing  he  knew 
was — 

"Qui  va  la?"  from  Meurice,  who  was  rapidly  advan 
cing,  musket  at  cock.  No  answer.  In  fact,  Talbot 
couldn't  answer.  He  was  all  bent  and  doubled,  and  very 
much  mixed  up  generally.  Again  it  came,  nearer  and 
Bterner: 

"Qui  vala?" 

"  Helas,  c'est  moi." 

"£t,  qui  estmot/" 

"  Un  ami,  avec  le  mot." 

"  Avancez,  ami,  et  dounez  le  mot." 

"  Scar^oyaddy,"  came  from  Talbot,  in  a  very  feeble,  pip 


ESCAPE   OF   TALBOT   AND   SMITH.  159 

ing,  shattery  sort  of  tone.  But  the  rest  of  the  conversation 
we  must  give  in  English. 

"  Right;  arid  who  le  diable  are  you/" 

"Me!  mef  Why,  Meurice,  blamed  if  I  know  myself ; 
I'm  all  so  topsy-turvied  by  a  fall  I've  got.  I  feel  just  as 
if  I  had  been  worried  by  a  bolt  of  lightning  ;  been  teased 
by  a  pack  of  curs,  or — but  don't  you  know  little  cadet, 
Jacques  Baptiste?  " 

"Ah,  that  you,  Jacques?  Why,  wouldn't  have  known 
your  voice;  you  must  have  a  bad  cold." 

"  Very  bad  ;  but  I  assure  you,  Pierre,  it's  the  very  best 
I've  got.  That's  the  reason  I'm  so  muffled  up." 

"  And  where  are  you  going  this  time  o'  night?" 

"  Oh," — edging  away  and  off  towards  the  second  line  of 
stockades — "don't  you  ask  too  many  questions.  Le  Capi- 
taiiie  Dumas  and  I  understand  each  other.  You  saw  the 
young  Delaware  girl  who  won  the  race  this  afternoon  ?  " 

"I  did,  and  what  of  her?  Oh-ho!  now  I  understand. 
Ah,  you  young  dogs  of  cadets  play  the  deuce  among  the 
Indian  girls." 

"  Pierre,  no  joking;  this  is  a  serious  case.  Will  be  back 
in  an  hour.  Be  careful  not  to  shoot ;  I've  a  mother,  three 
sisters,  and  an  old  aunt  at  home.  Scarooyaddy,  Pierre" — 
and  so  saying,  Talbot  reached  the  second  stockade,  and 
tumbled  over  to  the  other  side,  leaving  the  honest  Pierre 
chuckling  all  over  to  himself. 

Talbot  was  not  long  in  jumping  over  the  bank  on  to  the 
beach,  where  he  found  Smith  already  in  the  canoe,  paddle 
in  hand. 

"I'd  e'enamost  given  you  up,"  whispered  Smith. 

"And  I  had  altogether  given  myself  up,  Jimmy  ;  but 
here  I  am,  and  out  she  goes.  Steady !  there,  lad  !  ThU 
is  another  of  those  infernal,  rocking,  tottering,  whiffets  of 
boats — fit  for  nothing  that  I  know  of  but  coffins !  Down 
with  vour  pndd-ie,  and  lay  flat  in  the  canoe!  We'll  be  full 


160  OLD    FCRT    DUQUESNE. 

into  the  firelight  soon,  and  must  float  for  awhile — I  don'i 
care  if  its  an  hour,  I'm  so  done  up." 

The  canoe  was  now  fairly  out  in  the  current,  both  occu 
pants  flat  on  the  bottom,  and  quiet  and  nervous  as  cats  in 
a  milk-house.  They  had  floated  on  for  some  little  time, 
when  at  last  Talbot,  gathering  confidence  as  he  got  further 
away,  indulged  in  a  quiet  little  fit  of  laughter,  which  made 
the  canoe  fairly  tremble. 

'•  Sore  as  I  am,  Smith,  I  can't  help  laughing  at  the  way 
I  came  it  over  poor  Pierre.  I'll  tell  you  the  whole  story 
some  time,  going  lightly  over  the  forked  limb  part.  But 
if  Braddock  don't  decorate  me  and  you  for  this  escape  from 
Fort  Duquesne,  I'll  have  him  dismissed  the  army.  Why, 
lad,  I've  got  the  whole  plan  of  the  fort  in  my  pocket,  and 
will  lead  Braddock  right  into  it.  Talk  about  your  strong 
holds  and  fortifications !  why,  I'd  agree  to  walk  out  of  any 
of  them,  with  a  sentry  at  every  angle !  But  what's  that?" 
he  continued,  as  a  slight  grating  sound,  and  a  bump,  bump, 
bump  was  felt.  "Oh,  now  I  know;  it  must  be  that  old 
sand  bar  which  we  saw  from  the  fort,  just  at  the  meet  of 
the  two  rivers.  We're  all  safe  now,  and  beyond  the  fire 
light.  Let's  get  up  and  shove  her  off.  Heigh-o  I  what  a 
misery  it  must  be  for  one  to  be  as  stupid  as  Meurice  I " 

He  had  no  sooner  risen  to  his  knees,  than  strong  hands 
had  pinioned  his  arms  and  forced  him  down  again  into  the 
canoe,  and  Talbot  dimly  saw  the  ugly,  painted  faces  of  two 
Indians  bending  over  him.  Two  others  had  just  as  quietly 
done  the  same  by  Smith,  at  the  stern. 

No  use  resisting.  There  they  lay,  utterly  powerless,  and 
both  paralyzed  by  the  perfect  suddenness  of  the  whole 
affair. 

After  a  while,  a  familiar  voice  issued  from  a  huge  grin 
ning  cave  of  a  mouth. 

"Does  'little  two-scalps '  so  love  Nymwha's  wigwam 
lhat  he  must  find  it  by  night?  Now,  me  have  two  eons." 


ESCAPE   OF   IALBOT   AND   SMITH.  101 

It  will  be  remembered  that  one  village  of  this  Shawnee 
chief  was  oil  "seven-mile  island,"  on  the  Ohio. 

"Great  Jupiter!  Nyimvha,  is  that  yov?"  plaintively 
replied  Talbot,  very  much  relieved.  "  If  you're  going  to 
give  me  one  of  those  horrible,  volcanic  laughs  of  yoors, 
don't  do  it,  I  beg — would  rather  take  a  blow.  If  you've  a 
mind  to  take  my  real  hair  this  time,  or  even  torture  me  at 
tLe  stake,  now'd  be  as  good  a  time  as  any — would  just  aa 
soon  live  as  die." 

"  Will  '  little  two-scalps'  go  again  with  Nyimvha  to  the 
big  gun-house?  or  must  he  put  thongs  about  him  and  carry 
him?" 

"  Will  go  anywhere,  only  let  me  up!  "  and  Talbot  rose 
and  stepped  out  of  the  canoe.  "  Where  am  I,  Injun?  and 
how  came  you  on  the  sand  bar  ?  " 

A  broad  grin  divided  Nymwha's  face  as  he  said : 
"  Here  no  sand  bar.  You  'zactly  where  you  start  from. 
Nymwha  had  just  land  from  canoe  to  see  ball  play,  when 
he  think  he  hear  his  dear  sou, '  little  two-scalps.'  He  creep 
down  and  find  canoe  go  down  river ;  he  and  his  braves  go 
in  water,  swim  after  and  around  it,  and  lead  him  back  to 
shore.  Nymwha's  son  glad  ?  " 

"  Oh,  sure — tickled  to  death  !  Come,  James,  I'm  terribly 
'  cut  up  '  about  this — nothing  left  but  follow.  Just  to  think 
of  the  infernal  arts  of  these  painted  heathen  !  " 

" Hadn't  \ve  better  make  a  sudden  rush  on  the  devils?" 
whispered  Smith,  as  he  came  out  on  the  strand. 

"  I  thought  of  that — 'twould  be  sure  death.  They're 
two  to  one,  while  a  whoop  would  bring  a  thousand  to  their 
aid.  No,  no!  we  must  quietly  go  back  to  the  fort  and 
wait  till  Braddock  takes  it."  Then  to  Nymwha :  "  Lead 
on,  old  leather-breeches,  and  if  you  dare  laugh,  I'll  throttle 
you  !  I  will,  by  the  living  jingo  !  " 

The  party  then  climbed  the  bluff;  went  round  to  the 
Irawbridge  gate;  found  admission,  and  the  forlori  and 
11 


162  OLD    FORT   DUQUESNE. 

downcast  prisoners  were  soon  met  by  Dumas,  the  first 
intimation  either  lie  or  any  in  the  fort  hud  of  their  absunce. 
That  courteous  officer,  after  hearing  Nymwha's  story, 
looked  more  surprised  than  pleased.  At  last  he  said: 
"Eh  bien,  messieurs,  the  races  to-day  must  have  made 
you  anxious  to  try  our  canoes ;  I  trust  you've  had  a  pleas 
ant  little  trip." 

This  quizzing  tone  was  gall  and  wormwood  to  Talbot, 
and  he  with  difficult}  assumed  an  indifferent  air  as  he  re 
plied  :  "  Not  so  bad,  Captain,  but  our  pic-nic  ended  too 
quick  to  suit  us.  Would  you  mind  telling  us  what  the 
Indians  have  been  doing  since  our  impolite  departure?" 

"  Oh,  dancing  and  yelling  like  mad  !  I'm  told  by  one 
of  our  cadets,  that  you  were  drawing  something  on  paper 
this  afternoon ;  will  milord  be  kind  enough  to  let  me  see 
it?" 

"  Certainly,  Captain,"  said  Talbot,  knowing  how  vain  a 
refusal  would  be  and  drawing  out  his  rude  plan  of  tho 
fort.  "  Tis  but  a  rough  sketch — a  first  attempt — and  no 
use  now.  I  had  to  leave  out  the  pretty  face  of  Mademoi 
selle  Fleury,  although  her  eyes  are  about  the  most  for 
midable  battery  you  have  in  the  fort." 

"  Ah ! "  replied  Dumas,  looking  grave,  after  scanning 
the  paper ;  "  not  so  bad  (pas  si  mal).  Le  General  Brad- 
dock  might  have  seen  something  in  it  to  praise.  I  am 
afraid  I  have  underrated  your  character  and  talents, 
milord.  Our  poor  fort  is  not  attractive  enough  to  hold 
you;  I  must,  therefore,  ask  you  to  retire  to  the  guard 
house.  I  am  chagrined  (desole")  that  I  have  110  better 
quarters  to  offer.  Good-night,  and  pleasant  dreams." 

"  The  same  to  you,  Captain,"  gaily  answered  Talbot, 
with  as  insouciant  an  air  as  he  could  assume,  as  the  guard 
led  him  and  Smith  to  the  guard  house.  "Should  any« 
thing  occur  outside,  should  be  glad  to  hear  it.  Au  re- 
voir  I " 


ESCAPE   OF   TALBOT   AND   SMITH. 


163 


And  so  Talbot  found  himself — in  no  enviable  frame 
of  mind,  but  with  one  companion  to  share  his  solitude — 
in  precisely  the  same  place  he  was  the  night  before. 
Here  we  leave  him  for  the  present,  while  we  see  what 
happened  to  Jack  and  the  de  Bonnevilles  all  this  time. 

IP* 


LORD  TALBOT'S  PLAN  OF   FORT   DUQUESNE. 


Big  A.    Allegheny  River. 
Big  B.     Monongahela  River. 

A,  A,  A.    Exterior  Stockade  and  Ditch. 

B,  B.     Earth  not  dug  away  in  the  "  Lu 

nettes." 

C,  C,  C.    Interior  or  Main  Wall. 
1  and  2.     Magazines. 

3.  Powder  Room. 

4.  Smiths  Shop— 18x15  feet 

6.    Cadets'  Quarters  and  Prison— 18.  ft. 
square. 


G.  Kitchen— 18x15  feet. 

7.  Officers'  Apartments — 18x50  feet. 

8.  Commandant's  Quarters — 18x32  feet 

9.  Guard  House  (my  Quarters). 

10.  Soldiers'  Barracks— 18x50  feet 

11.  Store  House— 18x32  feet. 

12.  Well  (water  not  good). 

13.  Drawbridge  and  Gate. 

D.  Profile  of  the  Wall,  10%  ft. 

E.  Breaat  Work,  or  Parapet. 

F.  AVhere  the  Men  stand  to  fire. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

CAPTAIN   JACK    REJOINS   MARIE. 

The  moon  shone  bright,  and  her  silver  light, 
Through  the  forest  aisles  was  glancing; 

And  with  mimic  beam  on  the  rippling  stream 
A  thousand  stars  were  dancing; 

No  noise  was  heard  save  the  night's  lone  bird 
From  his  dark  and  dreary  dwelling. — Flint. 

THE  sultry,  drowsy  afternoon  was  well  advanced  when, 
*fter  having  found  and  left  in  such  a  comfortable  plight 
his  burly  and  broken-winded  pursuer,  Captain  Jack  escaped 
across  the  Allegheny.  His  late  dry  joke  was,  on  the  part 
of  this  strange,  stern,  silent  man,  a  proof  that  he  was  get 
ting  along  pretty  well,  and  very  few  of  our  readers  would 
go  greatly  astray  in  seeking  the  true  cause  of  this,  his  un 
wonted  exhilaration. 

The  weary  scout  at  once  sought  the  nearest  covert,  design 
ing  to  lie  closely  concealed  in  the  thick  woods  along  the 
river  bank  until  a  favoring  dusk.  He  had  abundance  to 
occupy  his  thick-crowding  fancies.  The  exciting  actions  of 
the  day  were  soon  forgotten,  while  the  thought  of  Marie 
and  his  late  strange  meeting  with  her,  crept  into  his  mind 
and  heart,  and  filled  them  with  a  tide  of  unaccustomed  feel 
ings.  The  stern,  almost  savage,  expression  of  the  revenge 
ful  Indian  hunter — who  had  had  but  one  single  object  for 
which  to  live — gave  way  to  a  softer  and  more  humanizing 
feeling,  and  life  took  on  for  him  new  views  and  hopes. 

The  old  love  for  Marie  was  fast  resuming  its  sway  over 


CAPTAIN   JACK    REJOINS   MARIE.  165 

him,  and  that  sway — as  is  the  natural  result  of  every  pure, 
disinterested,  heart  affection — was  a  beneficent  and  enno 
bling  one.  His  whole  life — and  it  had  been,  though  short, 
a  cheerless  and  solitary  one,  with  little  admixture  in  it  of 
anything  but  hard  and  stern  and  passionate — came  in  re 
view  before  him.  There  was  needed,  to  round  it  off  and  fill 
it  with  good  purposes  and  kindly  outflows,  the  advent  of 
some  strong,  tender,  heart  passion,  one  which,  in  love  for 
another,  teaches  to  forget  one's  self,  and  which,  by  a  mer 
ciful  decree  of  the  all-wise  Father,  is  most  graciously  de 
signed  to  energize,  enrich,  develop,  and  glorify  human  char 
acter  and  life. 

When,  therefore,  Jack  emerged  from  his  retreat  at  the 
gloaming  of  the  evening,  and  crossed  the  hill  to  reach  the 
"Four  Mile  Run,"  it  was  not  his  long  rest,  but  a  new 
strength  which  had  its  springs  deep  down  in  his  heart,  that 
gave  an  unwonted  springiness  to  his  tread,  and  which  filled 
his  eyes  with  a  sparkle  and  a  softness  to  which  they  had 
been  strangers  for  many  a  long,  weary  year. 

Descending  into  the  quiet  valley,  and  picking  his  way 
along  the  margin  of  the  merry  little  run  that  tripped  its 
blithsome  way  over  the  pebbly  bottom,  he  went  as  fast  as 
the  gathering  darkness  would  allow,  and  soon  came  upon 
the  smouldering  camp  fire  of  the  de  Bonuevilles,  showing 
that  the  evening  meal  had  been  concluded.  Neither  Marie, 
nor  Wau-ki-na,  nor  M.  de  Bonneville  was  visible.  All  waa 
silent  and  desolate,  and  had  it  not  been  for  the  fire  and  old 
Dobbin,  who  was  quietly  munching  his  grass,  the  place 
would  have  looked  deserted. 

Cautiously  stealing  his  way  to  the  bower — for  in  the  very 
midst  of  wary  and  artful  foes  every  step  had  to  be  taken 
with  prudence — Jack  peered  within.  None  there  but- Wau- 
ki-na  and  Marie.  The  young  Indian  girl,  with  head  bent 
over  some  bead  work,  was  humming  a  low,  mournful  Dela 
ware  chant,  while  Marie  sat  before  her  easel,  but  looking 


166  OLD    FORT    DUQUESNE. 

far  diJcrtut  than  when  Jack  last  saw  her  thus  employed 
Now,  her  Hand  had  fallen  listlessly  by  her  side ;  a  look  of 
sadness  and  anxiety  appeared  on  her  face,  and  her  fine,  ten 
der  eyes  were  filled  with  tears.  A  letter  she  had  just  finished 
reading,  had  i  tllen  into  her  lap,  and  the  sigh  she  gave  forth 
was  so  deep  an  i  expressive,  that  Waukiua  raised  her  eyes, 
dropped  her  w^rk  and  glided  to  her  side. 

"  What  make  my  good  lady  so  sad  ?  Why  she  fall  the 
tear?  Is  it  becaase  Wau-ki-na  must  go  way?" 

"  Partly,  that,  my  good,  dear  child,  and  partly  because  my 
iife  is  now  become  lonely  and  lull  of  anxiousness.  I  feel 
forebodings  of  which  I  cannot  get  rid.  Did  you  not  hear 
Edw —  Captain  Jack  say  he  would  be  here  early  to-day  and 
convey  father  and  me  to  the  army?  " 

"  He  did,  Miss  Marie,  but  maybe  he  can  no  get  here- 
The  woods  are  now  full  of  Indian  runners,  and  he  must  fly 
in  air  to  come  here  in  day  time." 

"That's  just  what  I  fear — have  feared  all  day,"  excitedly 
exclaimed  Marie,  rising  from  her  stool  and  hurriedly  walk 
ing  the  floor.  *'  He's  not  the  man  to  promise  and  fail. 
Besides,  the  air  has  been  full  of  dolorous  sounds  the  whole 
day.  The  fort  guns  were  busy  this  morning,  and  then  again 
this  afternoon.  What  can  it  mean  ?  and  how  will  it  all 
end  ?  I'm  sure  he's  either  killed  or  a  prisoner.  I'll  go 
this  minute  and — " 

"  Well,  Marie,"  rang  in  the  cheery,  sonorous  tones  of 
Jack's  voice,  "you  never  were  more  mistaken  in  your  life, 
for  here  stands  Captain  Jack — six  feet  two  in  his  mocca* 
sins — as  good  as  twenty  dead  men  yet,  and  only  waiting 
invitation  to  enter." 

The  startled  exclamations  of  surprise  from  both  girls  were 
followed  on  the  part  of  Marie  by  a  hurried  rush  to  the  door, 
and  a — 

"Oh,  Edward,  Edward!  but  I'm  too  rejoiced  to  see  you 
»afe  here  ajjnin  !  I  was  afraid  you  never,  never  would  come 


CAPTAIN   JACK    REJOIX3    MARIE.  167 

6ack.  W-iere  have  you  been  all  Jay?  What  has  hap 
pened  you  ?  What  caused  the  fort  firing  to-day?  Where's 
Scarooyaddy,  and — and — answer,  quick !  tell  me  all." 

"  Well !  there's  woman  for  you.  Will  I  answer  those 
questions  all  on  the  fly,  or  will  I  take  them  in  order?" 
laughingly  replied  Jack,  as  he  entered  the  hut.  "  Here, 
Marie,  is  the  letter  you  just  dropped  on  the  threshold,  and 
which,  if  I  mistake  not,  has  caused  some  of  your  tears.  It 
looks  like  a  man's  write." 

"  Where !  where !  give  it  me ;  it's  nothing,"  hastily  ex 
claimed  Marie,  grasping  the  letter,  and  crumpling  it  up  in 
her  hand,  the  rosy  color  suffusing  her  cheeks  and  mounting 
to  her  forehead. 

Jack  looked  grave  for  a  moment,  little  suspecting  that  it 
was  a  youthful  letter  of  his  own,  written  to  her  many  years 
since,  and  which  Marie,  anxious  and  fearful  lest  something 
nad  befallen  him,  had  that  day  unearthed  from  her  treas 
ures.  Almost  all  women  who  have  had  heart  histories — 
and  who  of  them  has  not  ? — possess  such  treasures,  either  of 
paper  or  of  memory. 

"  And  now,  Edward,  tell  me  of  your  day,  and  why  you 
were  not  back  as  promised,  early  this  morning.  Since 
father  reported  to  me  your  last  night's  parting  advice,  we 
have  discussed  the  matter  and  resolved  to  be  ready  to  move 
at  once,  and  luive  been  ready  all  day.  I  fear  we  have 
already  stayed  here  too  long.  Little  matters,  which  other 
wise  would  not  have  been  noticed,  have,  under  the  altered 
directions  you  have  given  our  thoughts,  taken  a  new  signifi 
cance." 

*  Wliat  matters?"  said  Jack,  a  trifle  less  cordially  than 
before.  "  Have  you  been  visited  to-day  by  any  from  the 
fort?" 

"No;  oh,  no!  But  Captain  Pipe,  the  Delaware  Chief 
from  Shannopinstown,  and  Wau-ki-na's  father — though  I 
never  can  understand  how  such  a  man  could  be  father  to 


168  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 

such  a  girl,  they  are  so  utterly  unlike  in  feature,  color,  dis 
position  and  manners — has  been  here  to-day,  with  a  few  of 
his  followers,  and  behaved  with  so  much  haughtiness  and 
showed  so  much  suspicious  curiosity,  that  my  worst  fears 
have  been  aroused." 

"  Oh,  I  know  that  Delaware  Chief  too  well,  Marie," 
fiercely  exclaimed  Jack ;  "  a  false-hearted  and  blood-thirsty 
knave,  and,  I  verily  believe,  a  coward  to  boot.  I  have  been 
in  search  of  the  rascal  for  years,  and  he  knows  it  well.  I 
am  led  to  believe  that  he  was  one  of  the  party  that  wiped 
out  my  home,  and  cruelly  murdered  all  that  were  dear  to 
me.  He  certainly  has  not  dared  to  say,  or  do  anything 
here,  Marie,  which  would  compel  one  to  put  him  to  a  double, 
and  a  more  instant  vengeance.  If  so,  you  must  delay 
another  day,  and  I  will  hunt  him  up,  even  in  his  own  town, 
and—" 

"  Oh,  no,  Edward  I  run  no  unnecessary  risks ;  if  not  for 
your  own,  yet  for  poor,  dear  father's  sake." 

"  And  where  is  your  father,  Marie  ?  " 

"  Down  by  the  run  there  preparing  a  Caracara  Eagle  he 
shot  late  this  afternoon.  He  has  been,  for  him,  unusually 
anxious  and  restless  all  day ;  would  come  to  me  a  dozen 
times  and  wonder  why  you  did  not  come ;  was  disturbed  by 
the  sounds  of  the  distant  firing — indeed,  I  never  saw  him 
so  mistrustful  before.  He's  ageing  very  fast,  of  late,  Ed 
ward  ;  don't  you  think  so  ?  "  and  Marie's  eyes  softened  with 
the  tenderest  affection  and  solicitude. 

Indeed,  Jack  had  never,  even  in  the  first  flush  of  her 
girlhood,  seen  her  look  so  perfectly  beautiful.  There  was 
such  an  engaging  frankness,  such  a  winning  natuialuess  in 
everything  she  said  or  did,  that  Jack  gazed  on  her  as  one 
spell-bound.  His  look  was  so  steadfast  and  ardent,  that 
even  Marie  could  not  but  notice  it,  and  her  eyes  fell  as  her 
color  mounted. 

"  Why,  yes — no,  Marie — oh,  I  don't,  know,  Marie.     I 


CAPTAIN   JACK    REJOINS    MARIE.  169 

think  lie's  as  hale  and  hearty  as  ever.  Not  so  much  spring 
in  his  step  or  life  iu  his  eyes,  perhaps,  but  he  has  twenty 
good  years  in  him  yet." 

"  Do  you  think  so,  Edward?  Thanks,  but  I  thought 
I've  noted  moods  which  are  strange  to  him.  He  rambles 
more,  but  to  less  purpose  of  late ;  communes  more  with  him 
self;  talks  much  in  his  dreams,  and  babbles  more  of  birds 
and  flowers.  It  seems  to  me  as  if  his  great  life  purpose  was, 
as  it  were,  burning  him  out.  His  eye — which  you  know 
used  to  be  like  the  eagle's  for  brightness  and  power — 
sometimes  looks  droopy  and  faded-like ;  at  others,  it  has 
an  unnatural  lustre  as  if  fed  by  some  internal,  consuming 
fever.  Oh,  my  friend,  what  would  I  do  if  I  lost  him? 
He's  everything  to  me,"  and  Marie  could  not  restrain  the 
tears  from  her  eyes. 

"  Why,  Marie,"  said  Jack,  but  evidently  admiring  while 
he  chided,  "this  will  never  do!     You  must  have  the  rr.e- 
(jrims  to-day.     Drive  such  foolish  notions  from  your  head 
What  did  Pipe  say  of  Wau-ki-ua?" 

"  Oh,  he  helped  me  there.  I  couldn't  make  up  my  mind 
to  part  with  the  dear  girl — have  been  trying  all  day  to  tell 
her  she  had  better  now  go  back  to  her  father,  but  every 
time  I  would  approach  her  for  that  purpose,  she  would  gaze 
at  me  so  tender  and  mournful-like  and  with  such  a  look 
of  anxiety  and  alarm  in  her  fair  face,  that  the  inhospitable 
words  ever  died  on  my  lips,  but  her  father,  with  much  per- 
emptoriness,  told  me  she  must  be  sent  right  home ;  that  the 
whole  village  was  in  a  clamor  for  her,  and  that  it  had  se 
lected  her  to  paddle  in  a  canoe  race  which  it  seems  is  to 
take  place  near  the  fort  sometime  to-morrow,  and  so,  amid 
our  mutual  tears,  she  has  consented  to  go.  Do  you  know, 
Edward,  I  take  a  most  singular  and  unaccountable  interest 
in  that  girl  ?  Her  face  haunts  me  like  some  old  picture  01 
a  cherished  memory,  and,  if  you'll  not  be  offended,  Ed 
ward, 'tis  if  your  dear,  sainted  mother  she  often  renrnds 


170  OLD    FOBT   DUQUE8XE. 

me — an  occasional  look  out  of  the  eye,  a  tone  of  her  voice, 
a  certain  cadence  in  her  laugh  ;  'tis  the  strangest  thing — " 

"  Oh,  nonsense,  Marie !  Why,  you're  full  of  sentiment, 
to-night.  Are  you  turning  poet  out  in  these  wild  woods? 
An  Indian  girl,  and  daughter,  too,  of  such  an  abominable 
old  scalp-lifter  as  Pipe,  look  like  my  sainted  mother!  Fie  ! 
for  shame !  You'll  be  saying  she  looks  like  me,  next ;  but 
let's  go  down  to  the  run.  I'm  too  old  a  bird  to  be  caught 
in  this  sort  of  a  net ;  and  you've  many  strange  visitors 
here  ? "  And  so  they  passed  out,  and  on  to  the  log  on  the 
Bt^am's  margin. 

"  And  where's  Scarooyaddy,  Edward  ?  I  thought  you 
could  always  rely  on  him." 

"  Oh,  Marie,  there's  the  saddest  part  of  this  day's  doings. 
He  left  me  in  the  midst  of  a  hard  fight,  insisting  that  as  he 
Dad  brought  me  into  a  difficulty,  he  would  now  get  me  out 
of  one ;  said  that  you  and  your  father  needed  my  aid,  and 
was  so  obstinate  in  his  purpose,  that  I  was  compelled  to 
yield — a  weakness  I've  been  blaming  myself  with  all 
day." 

"  What!  is  he  killed,  or  captured  ?  " 

"  Ah,  who  knows  ?  The  chances  were  most  fearfully 
against  him — ten  to  one — and  such  chiefs  as  our  friend  will 
not  be  taken  alive  if  it  can  be  helped.  Death  is  vastly 
preferred  to  torture;  and  yet,  who  can  tell?  The  Chief 
was  an  old  and  wary  warrior;  up  to  every  turn,  and 
ihift,  and  device  known  to  a  born  and  bred  Indian,  and 
the  direction  he  took,  looked  to  me  as  if  he  had  a  set  object 
before  him ;  but  let  us  sit  down  on  this  mossy  log,  and  in 
this  moonlight,  and  I  will  relate  the  day's  adventures,  so 
you  may  judge  for  yourself.  Well" — looking  long  and 
carefully  around — "  I've  lived  many,  many  years  in  the 
woods ;  have  wintered  and  summered  them,  and  am  familiar 
with  all  their  wondrous  changes  and  delights,  but  never  do 


CAPTAIN   JACK    REJOINS    MARIE.  171 

I  remember  to  have  seen  a  more  witching  scene  than  this— 
quiet,  but  inexpressibly  lovely." 

And  it  ivas  most  beautiful  and  picturesque.  The  solemn 
eugar-tree  grove,  with  the  moon's  pale  beams  struggling 
through  the  leafy  arches,  flecking  and  mottling  the  mead 
beneath  with  chasing  lights  and  shadows ;  the  prattling 
little  brook  in  front,  laughing  and  singing  its  gladsome 
way  to  the  Monongahela  ;  the  steep  and  gloomy  hill  on  the 
other  side,  one  mass  of  verdure,  and  no  sounds  around  save 
those  of  the  cricket,  the  katydid,  and,  ever  and  anon,  the 
plaintive  and  melancholy  notes  of  the  whip-poor-will,  as  he 
persistently  poured  forth  to  his  mate  the  only  love  song  he 
knew.  This  radiant  moon  seemed  to  touch  every  object 
with  its  pure,  cool,  chaste  lights,  not  only  to  illumine,  but 
to  glorify.  It  might  truly  be  said  of  it,  in  a  different  sense 
than  usual,  "  nihil  tetigit  quod  uon  ornavit."  It  was  like 
the  wand  of  enchantment. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

8CAROOYADDY   COME   TO    LIFE   AQAIW. 

How  sweet  the  moonlight  sleeps  upon  this  bank  • 
Uere  will  we  sit,  and  let  the  sounds  of  music 
Creep  in  our  ears  ;  soft  stillness  and  the  night, 
Become  the  touches  of  sweet  harmony. 
Sit,  Jessica ! — Merchant  of  Venice. 

Be  thou  a  spirit  of  health,  or  goblin  damn'd : 

Bring  with  thee  airs  from  Heaven,  or  blasts  from  hell 

Be  thy  intents  wicked,  or  charitable, 

Thou  com'st  in  such  a  questionable  shape, 

That  I  will  speak  to  thce. — Hamlet. 

AND  so  there  Jack  and  Marie  sat  under  the  beautif\  4 
moon,  whose  mellow  light  so  enriches  a  woodland  scenj 
like  this  ;  hiding  whatever  may  be  repulsive  or  ungracioiu, 
and  bringing  into  stronger  prominence  all  that  is  lovely 
and  most  attractive.  You  all  have  enjoyed  just  such  nights 
and  scenes  as  those,  readers,  and  many  of  you  have  sat  and 
gossiped  as  did  Marie  and  Edward. 

How  Jack's  eye  kindled  and  flamed  as  he  recounted  the 
morning's  escape  over  the  river  from  under  the  veiy  guns 
of  the  fort;  then  the  visit  to  old  Shiugiss'  camp,  and  then 
the  brief  but  desperate  encounter  with  the  Shawuee  baud, 
when  he  and  Scarooyaddy  parted  company,  and  after,  his 
own  contest  with  and  capture  of  the  burly  Indian,  whom 
he  had  left  *'ed,  and  doubtless  "  clothed  with  curses  as  witb 
a  garmen*." 
1-2 


SCAROOYADDY    COME   TO    LIFE   AGAIN'.  173 

And  how  Mario  listened,  now  pale,  now  flushed  ;  now 
anxious,  and  now  defiant ;  now  sorry  for  Scarooyaddy,  and 
now  glad  for  Jack ;  and  thus  the  night  was  wearing  on, 
when  all  at  once  Marie,  turning  her  head,  saw  a  sight 
which  froze  her  very  blood  with  horror.  She  clutched  tho 
ecout  by  the  arm,  but  could  only  point  with  her  finger. 
Jack  looked,  and  there,  at  the  end  of  the  very  log  on  which 
bey  both  were  resting,  a  little  removed  out  of  the  moon 
light,  sat  a  full-rigged  Indian  chief  in  his  war-paint — grim 
and  motionless  as  a  statue;  fixed  and  rigid  as  marble,  and 
apparently  as  cold. 

Jack  sprang  up  as  if  bitten  by  a  rattlesnake,  drew  hig 
tomahawk,  threw  himself  before  Marie,  and  took  a  defiant 
attitude.  No  word,  or  look,  or  motion  from  the  Indian. 

"  It's  a  ghost !  "  gasped  Marie,  her  teeth  chattering  from 
fear,  and  ready  to  sink  to  the  ground. 

"  Ghost  or  no  ghost,"  hissed  her  companion,  almost 
equally  puzzled,  his  eyes  fairly  starting  with  amazement, 
and  his  querying  gaze  thrown  around  in  every  direction, 
"  I  must  tackle  it !  " 

With  tomahawk  uplifted,  Jack  advanced  towards  the 
Btatue,  and  fairly  stood  beside  and  almost  over  it ;  still  no 
motion  or  sound.  In  a  moment  more,  down  would  have 
come  Jack's  keen  hatchet  on  his  ghostship's  sconce,  had 
not  the  uplifted  arm  been  arrested  in  mid-air,  by  a — 

"  Ugh  !  The  Black  Rifle  keep  watch  like  a  boy.  The 
soft  moonlight  blind  his  eyes  so  he  no  see.  Indian  meet 
young  squaw,  too,  but  he  always  keep  one  eye  out  for  his 
foe.  Here  your  pet  rifle,  which  I  just  now  take  from  be 
hind  you." 

"  The  Half-King,  by  all  that's  good !  "  joyfully  exclaimed 
Jack,  throwing  down  his  tomahawk,  and  warmly  and  affec- 
licuately  embracing  the  Chief.  "Here!  Marie,  here's  the 
best '  spook  '  ever  walked  by  moonlight.  I  forgive  his  rude 
joke  oil  me,  for  very  gladness  at  his  return.  Halloo !  old 


174  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 

fellow,   where    did    you   come    from?      Why,  you  lock 
wet!" 

"  "Wet  as  muskrat,  croaky  as  raven,  and  cold  as  frog," 
answered  Scarooyaddy,  now  condescending  to  loose  hia 
marble  jaws  and  grin  a  little.  "  I  soak  in  water  up  to  the 
mouf  all  afternoon.  My  brother  must  wring  Scarooyaddy 
out ;  he  very,  very  damp." 

"  That  I  will,  Chief!  But  tell  us  all  about  it.  The  last  1 
saw  of  you,  you  were  going  towards  the  fort  at  heart-burst 
speed,  and  a  baker's  dozen  of  yelling  Shawnee  after  you." 

"  Scarooyaddy  pretty  old ;  he  no  live  so  many  snows  for 
noting  ;  he  know  what  he  'bout.  Shawnees " — looking 
contemptuously — "young  fools,  worse  than  squaws.  Me 
first  hide  rifle,  and  then  lead  them  to  the  All-ghen-we.  Me 
sit  on  log  till  wind  come  back.  Me  fool  them  by  singing 
death-chant,  and  then  me  dive  under  water  like  a  loon,  but 
always  wid  eyes  open.  When  first  warrior  shoot,  he  no 
hit,  but  me  jump  and  dance  and  toss  arms  all  same. 
Shawnee  tiiik  me  killed.  No  bit  killed.  No ;  very  much 
live.  Me  then  take  long  dive,  like  bull-frog,  go  under  the 
drift  of  logs  and  bark,  and  come  way  up  in  the  deep  water, 
under  the  roots  of  the  big  buttonwood.  Understand  ?  Eh 
Many  summers  have  passed  over  Scarooyaddy's  head." 

"  Well,  they  have,  Chief,  and  no  mistake.  Who'd  have 
thought,  Marie,  of  that  way  of  escape  but  an  Indian  ?  Beat 
them  for  cunning  and  deviltries,  who  can !  " 

"  And,  Scarooyaddy,"  broke  in  Marie,  "  did  you  know 
of  this  place  and  tree  before  ?  " 

"  The  '  Wood-thrush '  very  young,  or  she  no  ask  that. 
Rcarooyaddy  often  catch  fish  from  that  tree.  When  hia 
line  get  fast,  he  often  go  down  under  to  see.  He  knew 
water  very  deep  there,  and  the  ground  all  washed  from 
under.  A  wi3e  chief  tink  of  all  dese  ting." 

"And  how  long  was  you  under  the  roots?"  asked 
Marie. 


8CAKOOYADDY   COME   TO    LIFE   AGAIN.  175 

"  Two,  three,  four,  several  hour."  And  then  he  laughed 
a  most  peculiar,  hollow  laugh,  which  seemed  to  come  up 
somewhere  from  near  the  region  of  his  belt,  but  which  al 
tered  not  one  particle  the  expression  of  his  face.  "  Fort 
officers,  many  Delaware,  and  Shawuee  and  other  chiefs, 
old  friends,  new  enemies,  come  over  to  island  all  afternoon, 
and  walk  over  Scarooyaddy's  head,  and  talk  about  him, 
and  him  sitting  like  a  blood-noun',  a  winking  and  a  blink 
ing  of  his  eyes,  and  a  laughing  and  a  scolding  all  the  time. 
Bime-by  all  go  away,  the  dark  come,  and  Scarooyaddy 
swim  to  shore,  hunt  his  rifle,  jump  into  canoe,  and  here 
him.  Tgh!" 

The  brave  old  Chief  had  never  yet  done  anything  which 
seemed  to  please  him  so  much  as  this — an  exploit  wherein 
he  had  outwitted  the  whole  assembled  tribes.  Every  now 
and  then,  cold  and  wet  as  he  wras,  he  would  suddenly 
open  wide  his  mouth,  and  fetch  up  one  of  his  mechanical, 
guttural,  stomachic  laughs — vox  et  prccterea  nihil — and  then 
as  quickly  subside  into  a  grave  and  dignified  silence. 

At  last,  after  hearing  all  the  particulars,  Jack  said: 
"  "Well,  Chief,  I'm  downright  glad  to  have  you  back  again. 
We've  heavy  business  yet  before  us,  but  with  you  near  me, 
we'll  enter  on  it  with  more  heart.  Marie,  while  I  hunt  up 
your  father,  wont  you  give  the  Chief  what  food  and  fire 
you  have?  He's  as  wet  as  a  mussel,  and  as  empty  as  its 
cast-off  shell." 

Jack  now  proceeded  down  the  stream  a  little,  and  soon 
came  on  M.  de  Bonneville,  very  busily  engaged  over  hia 
great  treasure,  a  blazing  pine  knot  throwing  a  circle  of  light 
around  him.  With  all  the  skill  and  care  of  a  profes 
sional  taxidermist,  he  was  taking  off  the  skin  of  the  eagle, 
and  dressing  it  most  carefully,  smoothing  down,  caressingly, 
every  brilliant  feather,  and  making  it  look  as  natural  and 
life-like  as  possible.  Jack  fondly  watched  the  rare  old 
enthusiast  aa  he  crooned  over  the  bird  an  old  French  song 


176  OLD    FOKT    DUQUESNE. 

as  if  it  had  been  a  child,  and  stroked  down  its  pied  aad 
iridescent  plumage  as  if  it  had  been  that  child's  silken  hair, 
and  finally  said: 

"  Good  evening,  M.  de  Bonnevillej  and  what  have  you 
there?  A  '  rara  avis'  by  the  look  of  it." 

The  old  devotee  started,  paused  from  his  absorbing  work, 
while  a  puzzled  expression  went  over  his  delicate  face,  and 
at  last  said : 

"  Why,  Edward  Percy,  when  did  you  return,  boy  ?  We've 
been  looking  for  you  all  day.  I'll  tell  Marie  you're  back 
again.  She'll  be  downright  rejoiced  to  see  you.  Here, 
Marie!  Marie!" 

"  No  occasion,  monsieur.  I've  met  Marie,  and  I've  come 
to  see  what  yvu're  about." 

"  You  have,  have  you  ?  Well,  lad,  I'll  right  gladly  show 
you,"  and  with  eye  lit  up  with  the  sacred  fire  of  a  noble 
enthusiasm,  he  went  forward  and  led  Jack  reverently  by 
the  hand  to  where  the  bird  lay,  as  if  it  had  been  some 
sacred  Ibis  of  his  faith,  which  this  High  Priest  of  Nature 
was  guarding  with  zealous  care  from  all  profane  eyes. 
"  'Tis  a  rare  good  fortune,  Edward,  to  find  a  Brazilian  eagle 
in  such  a  high  latitude.  'Tis  a  native  of  the  fervent  tropics. 
I've  heard  it  spoken  of,  and  intended  next  season  to  make 
a  voyage  to  the  gulf,  in  search  of  it  and  other  specimens. 
Look,  laddie,  at  the  graceful  shape  and  the  beautiful  sweep 
of  its  scimitar  wings,  the  cut  of  its  beak  and  the  brilliance 
of  its  plumage,  which,  however,  has  already  much  faded. 
Oh,  you  should  have  seen  it  when  it  first  fluttered  to  the 
ground.  '  Twas  a  most  royal  bird,  with  an  eye  of  fire,  and 
a  port  of  grace.  I  tell  you  such  glorious  and  iris-hued 
birds  will  wait  no  man's  leisure;  why,  their  bright  hues 
change  like  the  chameleons,  even  as  you  look,  "while  death 
fades  and  tarnishes  all  their  finer  tints." 

"And  where  did  you  happen  to  see  it?  " 

"  I  vas  strolling,  rifle  in  hand,  along  the  river  batik  thij 


BCAROOYADDY   COME   TO    LIFE   AGAIN.  177 

Afternoon,  wondering  what  could  be  the  meaning  of  the 
tiring  at  the  fort,  when  I  heard  a  strange  cry  in  the 
air  right  above  me.  On 'looking  up  I  saw  this  majestic 
bird,  sweeping  around  on  motionless  wing,  in  magnificent 
circles.  I  took  to  the  trees  to  watch  it.  Finally  it 
descended,  not  two  hundred  yards  from  me,  where  lay  the 
carcass  of  a  young  fawn  which  some  hunter  had  left  on  a 
little  grass  spot  on  the  bank.  How  lordly  it  stalked  up  to 
it,  and  with  what  an  aristocratic  air?  Breathless  I  crept 
up  close,  crawling  on  my  stomach  to  get  a  better  shot. 
Twice  it  raised  its  head,  and  flew  off  a  little  distance,  ev  - 
dently  having  caught  notice  of  me.  I  was  so  nervous  that 
I  could  not  draw  a  steady  bead  on  it.  At  last,  as  it  got 
eye  of  me,  and  was  flying  oft*  for  good,  I  risked  a  shot  and 
luckily  brought  it  down,"  and  the  old  man  looked  trium 
phant. 

While  Jack  was  inspecting  the  bird  in  his  hands,  his 
thoughts  began  to  wander  to  the  grave  business  of  the  mor 
row,  but  the  steadfastness  of  his  gaze  was  misinterpreted 
by  the  venerable  naturalist,  who  exclaimed: 

"I  know  it,  lad,  and  I  feel  it:  you  are  looking  at  that 
yawning. rent  in  the  neck.  If  you  had  been  the  shooter, 
the  bullet  would  have  gone  two  inches  higher  up,  straight 
through  the  head,  so  as  not  to  have  marred  the  brilliancy 
of  that  iris-hued  plumage.  'Twas  awkwardly  done  by  me, 
1  confess  it,  Percy,  but  'twas  either  that  or  nothing." 

"  Indeed,  M.  de  Bonueville,  you  mistake.  I  was  rather 
studying  the  best  way  of  getting  off  to-morrow.  'Twould 
be  useless  to  conceal  that  our  path  to  the  army  is  beset  with 
perils.  This  is  the  5th,  and  Braddock  expects  to  be  at  the 
fort  by  the  8th.  lie  can't,  therefore,  be  more  than  twenty 
miles  away.  God  grant  we  may  be  allowed  that  distance, 
in  quiet,  but  I  doubt  it." 

"  WLat !  Edward  !  "  anxiously  exclaimed  the  old  uatur 
12 


178  OLD    FORT    DUtJUESXE. 

alist,  now  thoroughly  alarmed.  "Do  you  fear  pursuit. 
Let's  start  this  very  night!  I'm  sure  Marie — " 

"  Better  very  early  to-morrow ;  we'd  make  more  prog 
ress  ;  besides,  Wau-ki-na  must  first  go  home.  No,  no,  sir 
Have  everything  ready  for  a  go  by  early  dawn  ;  and  you'd 
better  let  Scarooyaddy  and  me  manage  the  expedition." 

"  By  all  means,  Edward.  We'll  trust  all  to  you,  and 
now  let  us  join  the  others." 

They  found  Scarooyaddy,  Marie,  and  Wau-ki-na  at  the 
bower,  and  an  hour  or  so  was  passed  in  arranging  details 
for  the  morrow.  At  last  they  separated  for  the  night,  do 
Bonneville  offering  Jack  and  the  Half-King  a  spread  in 
his  apartment. 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  Jack,  "  that  would  never  do ;  we'd  be 
snared  like  beavers  in  a  trap.  The  Chief  and  I  have  much 
to  talk  over,  but  we'll  keep  within  watching  distance.  We 
hardly  expect  any  on  our  trail  to-night,  however,  but  to 
morrow — look  out !  Come,  Chief,  we  must  to  rest." 

The  two  retired  to  the  very  base  of  the  hill,  then  lay 
down  at  the  foot  of  a  huge  white-oak,  and  commenced  a 
low  but  earnest  conversation.  Soon  they  heard  the  sweet, 
tremulous  notes  of  de  Bonneville's  flute  creeping  up  towards 
them ;  now  full,  now  faint ;  now  rising,  falling,  swaying, 
dying,  until  it  seemed  the  very  trees  bent  down  to  listen,  so 
inexpressibly  soft  and  plaintive  were  those  "  wood  notas 
wild."  De  Bonneville  appeared  to  be  pouring  forth  his 
most  mournful  farewell  to  the  loved  scenes  of  the  past  few 
weeks,  and  the  feeling  and  expression  he  threw  into  his 
notes,  were  indeed  most  marvellous.  It  almost  seemed  as 
if  the  very  notes  were  in  tears. 

The  old  Chief,  raising  himself  attentively  on  one  arm, 
drank  it  all  in  in  silence,  while  Jack  could  scarce  breathe, 
so  tender  and  witching  was  the  weird  spell  thrown  over 
him.  At  last  the  notes  died  away,  as  it  were,  in  a  low  sofc 
or  wail,  when  Jack  first  spoke: 


8CAUOOYADDY    COME   TO    LIFE   AGAIN.  179 

"Chief,  what  think  you  of  that  sweet  'good-night?' 
Marie  tells  me  her  father  always  rounds  off  the  evening 
thus.  'Tis  his  vesper  hymn  to  the  Great  Spirit ;  and  if 
ever  that  Spirit  had  pure  and  devout  worshipper,  he  has 
one  in  de  Bonneville." 

"  I  no  understand  him,"  answered  the  Indian,  doggedly ; 
Mie  too  old  and  thin  to  wander  about  in  the  woods  thut-a- 
way.  He  kill  too  many  little  birds,  and  make  too  mourn 
ful  music.  Me  tink  something  not  all  right  here,"  touch 
ing  his  head  significantly. 

"  Oh,  yes,  of  course,  Chief,  'tis  the  way  of  the  world. 
What  it  can't  understand,  it  must  abuse  and  belittle ;  be 
sides—" 

"  Me  like  the  pale-faced  squaw,  though.  She  beautiful 
as  the  night,  and  have  a  voice  like  the  wood-thrush,  and  a 
laugh  like  the  ripple  of  pleasant  waters.  She — " 

"  Chief! "  petulantly  interrupted  Jack,  jealous  even  of 
the  admiration  of  a  savage ;  "  for  a  man  of  your  years, 
you're  a  great  goose ;  you  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  yourself, 
and  you'd  better  go  straight  to  sleep ;  we  must  make  an 
early  start  to-morrow." 

It  was  a  long  time,  however,  before  the  scout  followed 
his  own  advice. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

WAU-KI-NA  LEAVES — THE  PARTY  PURSUED. 

For  indeed  I  know 

Of  no  more  subtle  master  under  Heaven, 
Than  is  the  maiden  passion  for  a  maid ; 
Not  only  to  keep  down  the  base  in  man, 
But  teach  high  thoughts  and  amiable  words, 
And  courtliness,  and  the  desire  of  fame, 
Aiid  love  of  truth,  and  all  that  makes  a  man. — Tennyson* 

THE  first  streak  of  dawn  saw  the  whole  party  on  their 
feet.  While  Marie  and  Wau-ki-na  hastily  prepared  break 
fast,  de  Bouneville  gathered  up  all  his  goods — his  precious 
packages  of  specimens  and  drawings,  while  Jack  and  the 
Indian  fastened  them  on  Dobbin,  and  all  was  made  ready 
for  instant  motion.  Everything,  almost,  depended  on  an 
early  start.  The  danger  lay  in  two  directions — from  pur 
suers  in  the  rear,  and  from  returning  runners  and  scouting 
parties  in  front. 

The  frugal  meal  concluded,  Marie  first  nerved  herself  to 
part  with  Wau-ki-na,  who  clung  to  her  like  a  very  shadow, 
her  eyes  swoollen  with  weeping,  and  her  girlish,  nut-brown 
face  looking  so  sad  and  wo-begone,  that  all  were  moved  to 
pity,  but  it  had  to  be  done  and  done  quickly. 

Marie  managed  the  matter  with  great  tact  and  tender 
ness,  loading  Wau-ki-na  with  presents ;  assuring  her  they 
would  soon  meet  again ;  twining  her  arms  about  her  in 
most  affectionate  embraces,  and  bidding  her  "  good-bye ' 
ai  least  a  dozen  times. 
180 


WAU-KI-NA  LEAVES — THE  PARTY  PURSUED.   181 

It  seemed,  however,  as  if  the  poor  girl  could  not  tear 
herself  away ;  she  stood  mute,  paralyzed,  her  bosom  heav 
ing  and  sobbing,  and  her  face  bathed  in  tears,  uutil  even 
Marie  was  so  affected  she  was  compelled  abruptly  to  leave 
her  standing  at  the  threshold  of  the  hut,  and  to  rejoin  her 
companions. 

Wau-ki-na  finally  withdrew,  sobbing,  and  casting  many 
mournful,  lingering  looks  behind.  Jack  and  de  Bonne- 
ville  threw  to  her  cheery  farewells,  but  Marie  sat  by  the 
run,  unable  to  trust  herself  to  look  around.  It  was  not 
until  the  young,  amiable  Indian  girl  was  fairly  out  of  sight, 
that  Marie  raised  her  tearful  eyes. 

"  Oh,  Edward  !  that  was  a  hard,  hard  parting  for  me. 
You  cannot  imagine  how  her  young  life  has  twined  itself 
in  mine  ;  I  did  not  know,  myself,  till  this  morning.  For 
two  months,  now,  we  have  been  almost  inseparable,  and 
her  face  has  the  strangest  influence  over  me.  My  very 
heart  goes  after  her.  Would  it  be  wrong,  Edward,  to  call 
her  back  and  take  her  with  us  ?  She  begged  me  this 
morning,  with  tears  and  sobs,  to  let  her  go  wherever  / 
would  go." 

"  Yes,  very  wrong !  Marie,"  replied  Jack.  "  She  is  a 
dear,  good  girl,  and  I'm  strangely  drawn  to  the  little  minx 
myself,  but  she  wouldn't  thrive  away  from  her  own  tribe. 
The  great  mystery  to  me  is,  how  such  a  sweet,  fair,  and 
graceful  girl  can  have  such  a  shrivelled-up  old  parchment 
as  Pipe  for  her  father ;  but  the  world's  full  of  strange  mys 
teries — a  bigger  one  than  this  is  now  being  unravelled  for 
me,"  and  with  this  comforting  assurance,  Jack  briskly  led 
the  way  down  the  run  to  the  Mouougahela,  followed  by  de 
Bonneville,  his  daughter,  and  old  Dobbin,  while  Scarce- 
yaddy,  his  watchful  eyes  never  resting  for  an  instant, 
brought  up  the  rear. 

On  the  very  verge  of  the  maple  grove,  Marie  could  not 
refrain  from  turning  and  gazing  long  and  wistfully  at  th« 


182  OLD    FORT    DUQCESNE. 

sweet  sylvan  scene  of  so  much  tranquil  happiness.  The 
whole  place  seemed  redolent  with  the  aromas  which  rose 
like  morning  incense,  not  alone  from  the  dewy  earth,  but 
from  grass,  shrub,  vine  and  flower.  Every  bough  and 
twig  and  fern  seemed  a  fragrant  censer  for  Nature's  pure 
ly-distilled  perfumes.  Her  father  seemed  to  divine  and 
even  to  share  her  thoughts ;  and  quietly  gliding  back  to 
her  side,  he  wound  his  arm  about  her,  and  slowly  and  affec 
tionately  led  her  from  the  spot.  It  was  like  Eve  leaving 
Eden,  with  her — "and  must  I  then  leave  thee,  Paradise?" 

The  order  of  march  had  been  fixed  as  above,  and  it  was 
thought  best  to  go  along  the  margin  of  the  river,  since  the 
scouts  and  runners  to  and  from  Braddock's  army  took  a 
more  direct  course  back  from  the  water  and  along  the  up- 
.auds. 

The  morning  was  a  most  beautiful  one,  and  the  course 
zhrough  the  open  woods  skirting  the  river  was  a  constant 
succession  of  lovely  views  and  varying  delights.  It  was 
impossible  long  to  withstand  the  freshness  and  buoyant  in 
fluences  of  such  a  journeying,  and  the  spirits  of  the  whole 
party  rose  with  each  advancing  step. 

No  attempt  whatever  was  made  to  cover  up  their  trail. 
It  would  have  been  useless.  Jack  and  the  Half-King  did, 
indeed,  suggest  the  night  before,  that  old  Dobbin  and  the 
packages  should  be  left  until  the  army  had  advanced  and 
taken  the  fort,  but  the  very  idea  was  received  with  so 
much  alarm  and  anxiety  on  the  part  of  de  Bonneville — 
many  months  of  whose  life  were  wrought  into  those  port- 
frlios — that  it  was  dropped  as  soon  as  broached,  and  so  all, 
misting  to  good  fortune,  trudged  cheerily  and  hopefully 
along,  de  Bouneville  or  Marie  occasionally  wandering 
from  the  direct  course  to  pluck  a  fern  or  a  flower  or  take 
a  view  of  the  river,  and  Jack  or  the  Indian  to  stop  and 
listen  and  scrutinize,  so  that  they  might  not  run  into  dan 
ger  nt  unawares. 


WAU-KI-NA   LEAVES — THE    PARTY  PURSUED.         183 

All  that  could  be  done,  either  to  avoid  peril  or  to  skil 
fully  and  bravely  encounter  and  overcome  it,  might  surely 
be  entrusted  to  those  two  wary  and  experienced  leaders. 
They  seemed  to  have  at  once  eyes  iu  every  part  of  their 
heads,  and  not  a  leaf  stirred  or  a  bird  hopped,  that  did 
not  on  the  instant  arrest  their  attention. 

They  had  steadily  advanced  thus  over  an  hour  on  their 
loitering  course,  without  anything  to  betoken  danger,  when 
Jack,  under  the  pretence  of  tightening  Dobbin's  girth, 
epoke  iu  low  tones  to  de  Bonueville : 

"Don't  be  at  all  alarmed,  but  'tis,  sir,  as  I  feared. 
We're  pursued." 

"  What !  where  ?  "  excitedly  exclaimed  de  Bouneville ; 
"  I  see  nothing,  hear  nothing  1 " 

"  Sh-h-h,  gently,  gently,  my  good  sir.  Don't  let  Marie 
know,  please.  Look  at  Scarooyaddy  !  " 

The  old  Chief  had  fallen  very  far  into  the  rear,  and  was 
rapidly  gliding  from  tree  to  tree,  now  stopping,  now  run 
ning,  now  aiming  his  rifle,  and  now  resuming  his  course  again. 

"  I  can't,  of  course,  tell  how  many  are  on  our  trail,"  re 
sumed  Jack,  "  but  you  may  depend  that  all  that  can  be 
done  will  be  done  by  the  Half-King  to  keep  our  pursuers 
at  bay.  We  are  now  leaving  the  'narrows,'  and  must  has 
ten  on,  or  the  redskins  will  work  around  us." 

"  All's  lost ! "  said  de  Bonneville.  "  What's  to  be  done  ? 
I'll  go  back  and  explain.  They  all  know  me  and  will 
reverence  my  gray  hairs." 

"  Gray  hairs,"  sadly  whispered  Jack,  "  they'd  hanker 
after  them  as  a  new  color  on  their  legging  fringes.  If  you 
went  back  you'd  be  riddled  with  bullets  like  a  sieve.  No, 
no ;  rather  you  and  Marie  hasten  forward  with  all  possible 
speed.  I  had  hoped,  by  travelling  all  night,  to  reach  Brad- 
dock  ;  but  it  seems  it  can't  be  done.  Fortunately,  Frazier, 
the  Scotch  trader's  house,  is  now  within  a  brief  half  mile. 
You  must  make  straight  for  that,  and  tell  Jennie  and  the 


184  OLD   FORT   DUQUESXK. 

gude  wife  to  make  all  ready  for  the  defence.      I  must  go 
back  and  join  the  Chief." 

"  What !  and  leave  Marie  and  me  ?  " 

"  Even  so.  Our  danger  lies  now  entirely  from  the  rear. 
For  God's  sake !  don't  parley,  sir,  but  push  on,  push  on, 
without  one  instant's  delay  I "  so  saying,  Jack,  with  piece  at 
cock  and  with  kindling  eye,  rejoined  the  Half-King,  just 
as  the  rifle  of  the  old  Indian  delivered  its  spiteful  fire,  and 
the  foremost  Indian  pursuer  was  doubled  up  in  a  trice. 

"  Hurrah !  Chief,  here  I  be.  Now  commences  about  our 
fiftieth  fight  together.  Have  a  care,  Yaddy !  Keep 
behind  your  tree;  I  see  a  bead  drawn  on  you.  Quick! 
quick !  load  up  and  I'll  fetch  that  varlet  myself.  Ready  ? 
— so" — and  Jack  waited  till  the  tufted  head  popped  out 
for  a  shot,  when,  quick  as  lightning,  his  long  black  rifle 
was  up  and  off. 

"  Ha !  Ha !  "  as  the  fellow  dropped  at  the  base  of  his 
tree  and  wriggled  in  the  bush ;  "  ye'Il  know  plaguey  soon 
who  you've  got  to  deal  with.  Keep  off! "  he  shouted  ex 
citedly,  "  if  you  want  whole  pelts  to  your  bodies." 

Jack  was  one  of  those  worthies  whose  spirits  rose  with 
the  occasion.  He  kept  up  a  running  fire  of  talk  and  ex 
clamations,  but  never  for  a  moment  forgot  just  the  right 
thing  to  do. 

This  second  shot  was  the  signal,  on  the  part  of  the  pursuers, 
for  a  general  rush  forward  from  tree  to  tree,  and  a  com 
bined  yell  which  made  the  very  woods  to  ring.  A  patter 
of  bullets  crashed  around,  one  of  them  striking  the  butt  of 
Jack's  rifle. 

"  Whoop!  but  the  snaky,  slippery  varmints  are  swarming. 
Why,  if  there's  one,  Yaddy,  there's  twenty  of  them — Shaw- 
nees  too  I  I  fear  me,  Chief,  we'll  have  to  run  for  it.  Back! 
back  to  the  next  tree ! "  Both  now  made  a  short,  quick, 
zig-zag  run  back  for  a  hundred  yards  and  got  behind  theii 
treei  Jack  commenced  reloading.  All  was  silent;  not  aa 


WAU-KI-NA    LEAVES — THE    TARTY    PURSUED.       185 

Indian  could  be  seen,  but  an  arm  was  here  and  there  visible, 
ramming  home  its  bullet.  They  had  been  taught  wariness, 
and  knew  who  fronted  them. 

The  scout,  as  soon  as  he  was  loaded  again,  shook  off  his  skin 
cap,  put  it  on  the  end  of  his  ramrod,  and  slowly  and  cautiously 
pushed  it  out  from  the  tree.  Five  or  six  cracks  and  two  bul 
lets  right  through  the  skin,  told  of  the  success  of  his  device. 

"Didn't  think  they'd  do  it,  Yaddy,  blamed  if  I  did; 
'twas  a  stale,  old  trick,  but  thought  I  might  as  well  try  it;" 
adding  contemptuously,  "  they  must  be  youukers.  Now  for 
another  run  back."  This  time  they  made  a  rush  of  about 
two  hundred  yards,  keeping  their  trees  as  much  in  line  as 
possible. 

All  this  took  time,  and  time  was  just  what  the  two  were 
most  anxious  to  gain.  Marie  and  de  Bonueville  were  by 
this  well  on  to  Frazier's  cabin. 

"  Now,  Chief,  you  watch  your  best  chance  for  a  shot,  and 
then  we  must  cut  for  it.  The  ground's  widening  here,  and 
I  fear  the  rascals  will  flank  us  arid  get  in  our  rear.  Halloo ' 
What  does  this  mean?"  as  some  rifle  cracks  were  heard 
seme  distance  behind  them,  one  of  the  bullets  plunging  into 
the  tree  right  by  Jack's  head,  and  the  other  actually 
pinning  Scarooyaddy's  scalp  lock  to  his  tree. 

It  was  just  as  he  feared.  Three  of  the  redskins  had, 
while  the  two  scouts  were  keeping  back  the  rest,  climbed 
along  the  side  of  the  hill  and  got  directly  in  their  rear. 
They  were  now  between  two  fires. 

"  Come,  Chief,  this  is  murder !  by  heavens,  we'll  be 
slaughtered  like  rats  in  a  hole.  We've  drawn  their  fire  and 
are  loaded  ourselves.  Let  us  turn  tail  and  make  square  at 
thoae  in  our  rear  with  the  tomahawk." 

No  sooner  said  than  done.  The  two  turned  short  around, 
and  bounded  with  tremendous  leaps  right  down  on  the 
couple  of  Indians  now  reloading,  Jack  first  making  a  wing 
»hot  at  the  third  OBf.  who  went  sneaking  and  limping  off,  with 


,86  OLD    FORT    DUQUE8XE. 

DO  stomach  left  for  the  fight.  Jack  made  easy  work  with 
his  Indian,  who,  as  the  white  hunter  panted  up  and  made 
a  leap  and  a  stroke  together,  dropped  his  rifle.  The  toma 
hawk  missed  its  mark,  and  there  was  an  instant  grapple,  a 
heavy  fall  and  a  blow. 

Jack  was  too  quick  and  powerful  for  his  swarthy  foe.  Ho 
grasped  him  by  the  throat,  and  pressed  it  till  the  Indian  grew 
fairly  purple  in  the  face ;  till  his  tongue  protruded,  his  eyeballs 
stood  out  from  their  sockets,  and  the  blood  gushed  from  his 
nostrils.  Giving  him  a  final  and  terrible  hug  and  punch, 
Jack  threw  him  off  like  a  squeezed  lemon ;  leaped  to  his 
feet,  recovered  his  rifle,  and  was  bounding  off  again,  when 
he  saw  Scarooyaddy  and  a  powerful  young  Shawnee  chief 
engaged  in  a  death  grapple.  The  old  Half-King  was 
making  the  most  desperate  efforts,  but  so,  too,  was  his 
opponent.  They  rolled  and  twisted  and  struggled,  the 
young  Shawnee  having  on  account  of  Scarooyaddy's  age  and 
wounded  arm,  rather  the  best  of  it,  until  Jack  ran  to  his 
friend's  assistance. 

"'Tis  a  very  pretty  fight  as  it  stands,  Chief,  but  fair 
play's  no  jewel  here/  I  hardly  know  which  is  which,  you're 
so  jumbled  and  mixed  up,  but  I'll  punch  this  peeled  head 
at  a  venture,"  and  Jack  crunched  the  butt  of  his  rifle  hard 
in  the  Shawnee's  face.  "  Now,  Yaddy,  let's  be  off,  or  the 
whole  gang  will  be  in  front  of  us  to  fight." 

So  saying,  the  two  took  to  their  heels,  and  ran  with  most 
desperate  energy.  Frazier's  isolated  log  house  now  hove 
into  view — a  most  welcome  sight.  A  shout  from  Jack,  to 
let  the  inmates  know  of  their  approach ;  the  heavy  oaken 
door  swung  back  on  its  rude,  wooden  hinges,  and  closed  be 
hind  them  with  a  rattle  of  the  huge  bar ;  the  bullets  from 
the  pursuers  pattered  against  the  outside,  and  a  loud  yell 
of  baffled  rage  filled  the  air,  as  both  our  heroes  fell  panting 
and  exhausted  to  tht  floor.  A  narrow  escape,  truly.  AJJ 
safe  for  the  present. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

DESPERATE  ATTACKS — JACK'S  FEAT* 

The  mothers  of  our  forest  land, 

Stout-hearted  dames  were  they  ; 
With  nerve  to  wield  the  battle-brand, 

And  join  the  border-fray ; 

To  load  the  sure  old  rifle, 

To  run  the  leaden  ball ; 
To  watch  a  battling  husband's  place, 

And  fill  it  should  he  fall. 

A  LONG  lull  now  ensued.  The  discomfited  foe  drew  off 
in  silence  to  the  cover  of  the  surrounding  woods,  to  concert 
&  vigorous  and  successful  assault.  Jack  and  the  Half- 
King  gradually  recovered  breath,  and  rose  to  take  account 
of  their  situation  and  to  plan  a  defence.  They  were  both 
well  aware  of  the  numbers  and  devilish  ingenuity  of  their 
enemies,  and  the  situation  was  sufficiently  grave — not  to 
Bay  desperate — to  command  their  most  anxious  solicitude. 

There  was,  however,  no  thought  of  quailing  or  despair. 
If  either  knew  the  thoughts  of  the  other,  he  kept  up  a  most 
resolute  port  and  an  unfaltering  eye  for  the  other  inmates 
of  the  cabin.  With  the  exception  of  one  end  of  the  Half 
King's  scalp-lock  having  been  carried  off  and  his  recent 
wound  having  broken  out  afresh,  and  Jack's  having  received 
a  tomahawk  gash  and  a  sprain  from  his  tussle  with  the 
Indian,  both  were  in  good  condition. 

The  house  of  Frazier,  the  Scotch  gunsmith  and  Indian 
trader — then  serving  vr'*h  Braddock's  army — was  the  mosl 

18? 


188  OLD   FOKT   DUQUESNE. 

western  habitation  of  that  day.  It  was  of  the  same  build 
and  character  as  most  of  the  frontier  cabins  of  the  time — • 
fashioned  out  of  rude,  notched  logs,  cut  from  the  surround 
ing  forest,  without  the  use  of  either  nail  or  spike.  (See 
Appendix  M.) 

The  roof  was  made  of  huge,  unhewn  clap-boards,  over 
lapping  and  stretching  from  pole  to  pole.  The  floor  was 
formed  of  p'incheons  made  by  splitting  trees  about  eighteen 
inches  in  diameter,  and  hewing  the  faces  with  a  broad  axe. 
These  were  then  laid  on  sleepers.  The  great  chimney  wa* 
also  built  of  logs,  and  made  large  enough  to  admit  of  a 
back  and  jams  of  stone. 

The  cracks  between  the  logs  were  filled  with  billets,  and 
daubed  over  with  mud-mortar.  The  inside  of  this  back 
woods  cabin  corresponded  in  rudeness  and  simplicity  with 
the  outside.  A  huge  table  was  made  of  a  split  slab,  sup 
ported  by  four  rough  legs,  set  in  auger  holes.  A  number 
of  three-legged  stools  were  fashioned  in  the  same  manner. 
Rough,  wooden  pins  stuck  in  the  logs  around  the  house, 
upheld  clap-board  shelves,  or  served  to  support  garments, 
vegetables,  and  what  not,  while  the  rifles  and  hunting  ac 
coutrements — of  which  every  pioneer  cabin  had  a  most 
liberal  supply — depended  from  huge  buck's  antlers  fastened 
over  the  chimney  and  around  the  walls. 

This  particular  cabin  of  Frazier's  fortunately  formed  an 
exception  to  others,  in  that,  from  its  very  exposed  situation, 
it  was  made  somewhat  like  a  block-house — that  is,  the  se 
cond  story  projected  beyond  and  over  the  first  about 
eighteen  inches  all  around,  leaving  an  opening  at  the  bot 
tom  of  the  projection,  so  that  those  inside  and  above  could 
fire  downward  and  prevent  any  enemy  from  makiug  a 
lodgement  under  the  walls.  A  number  of  sloping  port-holes 
had  also  been  left  at  convenient  distances. 

Frazier's  cabin  stood  right  on  the  bluff  of  the  Mononga- 
hela,  and  was  pretty  well  protected  on  that  side  by  nature 


DESPERATE  ATTACKS — JACK'S  FEATS.       189 

The  tree?  had  been  cut  around  in  a  semi-circle,  and  all 
cleared  away,  with  the  exception  of  one  huge  walnut  at  the 
chimney  end,  which  threw  its  broad  branches  over  the  roof, 
affording  a  most  grateful  shade. 

Jack  and  the  Half-King,  in  their  first  search,  found  an 
ample  supply  of  rifles  and  ammunition,  and  were  so  much 
pleased  with  their  careful  survey  of  the  whole  premises, 
and  the  staunchness  of  door,  chimney  and  walls,  that  they 
gathered  fresh  hope,  and  seemed  prepared  to  withstand 
quite  a  siege.  It  was  not  a  direct  assault  they  so  much  ap 
prehended,  as  some  devilish  stratagem  or  device  of  their 
enemies  by  fire.  It  was  concluded  best  to  send  M.  de  Bon- 
neville  and  the  three  females  to  the  attic  story,  which  was 
reached  by  a  rude  ladder  and  floored  with  pinned  clap 
boards  ;  but  to  this  the  old  gentleman  would  not  consent, 
insisting  he  could  be  of  service  in  loading  the  guns,  handing 
ammunition,  etc. 

All  was  now  ready  for  whatever  might  happen.  While 
Jack  ranged  around  the  cabin,  perfecting  all  needful  pre 
parations,  the  Half-King  stood  by  a  loop-hole,  looking  out 
toward  the  forest.  Not  a  sign  of  an  enemy.  All  was  still, 
calm,  and  sultry  as  a  desert.  It  was  now  nearing  noon ; 
not  a  leaf  or  a  blade  of  grass  was  stirring ;  no  sign  of  life 
except  old  Dobbin,  who  could  not  be  gotten  inside  soon 
enough,  and  who  was  lazily  cropping  the  herbage  before 
the  doorstep. 

A  sudden  "  Ugh  !  "  from  Scarooyaddy,  and  an  immedi 
ate  stiffening  up  of  his  whole  frame,  betokened  something 
unusual.  Jack  jumped  to  a  loop-hole,  and  saw  two  un 
armed  Indians  approaching,  carrying  branches  in  their 
hand,  which,  as  they  approached,  they  waved  in  sign  of 
peace. 

"Who  are  they,  Chief?  and  what  do  you  make  of 
"  whispered  Jack. 


190  OLD    FORT   DUQUESNE. 

"  It's  Catahecassa,  or  Blackhoof,  one  of  the  most  noted 
young  chiefs  of  the  ShaAvnees."  (See  Appendix  N.) 

"  It  is,  is  it?  Well,  Gassy  or  no  Gassy,  he  comes  no  fur 
ther  without  a  challenge!  Halloo!  Halt,  there!  you 
bloody  rapscallions  or  you're  dead  Indians !  No  nonsense! 
Say  your  say  where  you  stand  and  be  quick  about  it ! " 
shouted  Jack. 

He  who  was  called  "  Blackhoof"  then  smiled  and  bowed, 
waved  his  hands  and  called  on  Scarooyaddy,  who  asked  in 
the  Shawnee  dialect  what  he  wanted. 

Blackhoof  then  commenced  a  most  artful  and  palavering 
ppeech  ;  praising  the  courage  of  The  Black  Rifle  and  the 
Half-King ;  telling  them  they  had  just  made  a  most  gallant 
fight ;  stating  how  much  the  latter's  pretended  drowning 
and  subsequent  escape  had  moved  the  admiration  of  both 
French  and  Indians,  and  laughingly  going  over  Jack's  ty 
ing  exploit  with  their  big  Shawnee  chief.  He  then  spoke 
of  de  Bonneville  and  Marie ;  how  much  they  had  been 
liked  and  protected  during  the  spring,  and  concluded  by 
stating  that  they — the  Indians — were  ten  to  one ;  that  no 
help  was  near,  and  that  it  was  useless  to  contend  against 
numbers ;  and  offering  to  protect  and  care  for  them,  if  they 
would  open  the  door  and  surrender. 

All  this  was  duly  reported  to  Jack,  on  whom  it  made 
but  very  slight  impression.  He  knew  well  the  cruel, 
treacherous  nature  of  the  foe  he  had  to  deal  with. 

"  Well,  Chief,  ask  the  murderous  villians  what  if  we 
don't !  what  if  we  don't !  What  then  ?  " 

Well,  then,  came  back  the  reply,  they  would  have  to 
take  the  house  the  best  way  they  could,  and  if  all  in  it 
were  killed,  scalped,  or  burnt  up,  they  would  have  only 
themselves  to  blame. 

This  raised  Jack's  ire.  He  couldn't  wait  for  the  Half* 
King,  but  shouted : 

"  Be  off  with  you !  you  bloody,  slaughtering,  scalp-tearing 


DESPERATE  ATTACKS — JACK'S  FEATS.       191 

varmints,  or  I'll  drive  a  bullet  straight  through  your  tawny 
hides!  Vanish!  get  out!  away  with  you!  Not  a  word 
more,  or  I'll  drop  you  in  your  very  tracks ! "  and  he  ao 
tually  projected  his  long  black  rifle  through  the  port-hole. 

Blackhoof  knew  enough  English  to  at  once  comprehend 
Jack's  meaning.  His  whole  countenance  changed  on  the 
instant  to  one  of  savage  ferocity ;  and  brandishing  his  arms, 
and  shaking  his  clenched  fists,  he  rapidly  retreated,  giving 
forth  a  most  terrific  war-whoop,  which  was  taken  up  by  at 
least  a  score  of  Indians  skulking  under  the  trees. 

Blackhoof  then  suddenly  whipped  out  a  short  rifle,  con 
cealed  about  his  person,  and  shot  directly  at  Jack's  port 
hole,  while  his  companion  did  the  same  at  poor  Pobbin, 
who  fell  almost  before  he  knew  what  hurt  him,  and  lay 
struggling  and  writhing  right  before  their  very  eyes. 

Hostilities  then  commenced  in  earnest.  Volley  after 
volley  of  bullets  came  pattering  against  the  logs  and  oaken 
door,  but  with  no  other  effect  than  so  much  haiL  Jack 
and  the  Indian  contented  themselves  with  firing  long  shots 
only  when  they  saw  any  part  of  a  foe  exposed.  These 
exposures,  however,  were  seldom  made,  as  the  Indians 
seemed  to  have  a  wholesome  dread  of  their  rifles.  The  firing 
soon  died  away,  and  silence  reigned  so  long,  that  de  Bonne- 
ville  expressed  the  belief  that  the  enemy  had  altogether 
retreated. 

Jack  and  his  companion  both  shook  their  heads.  They 
knew  better  the  Indian  character.  They  were  only 
planning  some  new  deviltry. 

About  three  of  the  afternoon,  a  sudden  but  smothered 
exclamation  was  heard  from  Marie,  who  had  gone  up  to  the 
loft  to  remain  with  her  father,  he  being  utterly  worn  oul 
with  the  excitement  of  the  day. 

"  What  is  it,  Marie  ?  what  do  you  see?" 

With  face  blanched  with  fear,  Marie  stood  at  the  head 
of  the  ladder  and  motioned  him  up.  Quietly  Jack  ascended 


J*J2  OLD    FORT    UUQUESNE. 

the  rude  rounds,  \vhen  Marie  took  him  to  the  projectioi 
overlooking  the  extreme  west  angle  of  the  cabin,  and  there, 
close  to  the  cabin  wall,  and  on  the  very  edge  of  the  bluff, 
stood  no  less  than  seven  Indians,  while  one  or  two  others 
were  crawling,  like  venomous  serpents,  along  the  river 
bank  to  take  their  position  in  line,  and  then  to  make  a 
rush  en  masse. 

It  was  enough  to  appal  a  stouter  heart  than  Jack's.  His 
hair  fairly  stood  on  end.  His  breath  came  thick  and  fast. 
Not  one  instant  to  lose.  Quickly  descending,  he  told 
Scarooyaddy  of  this  new  danger  from  such  an  unexpected 
source.  A  large  kettle  of  water  was  boiling  on  the  fire, 
and  Jack  filled  all  the  vessels  he  could  get  and  quietly 
handed  them  above.  Ascending  then  himself,  he  stationed 
the  three  women,  and  took  his  own  position  with  the  Half- 
King.  When  all  was  ready,  signal  was  passed ;  two 
rifle  cracks  wrere  heard,  and  the  boiling  water  was  poured 
right  down  on  to  the  heads  of  the  Indian  file,  and  such  a 
scampering  and  howling  and  yelling  was  heard  as  would 
have  been  supremely  ridiculous  at  any  other  time.  As  the 
result,  one  very  dead  Indian  lay  close  to  the  cabin  wall, 
while  another,  evidently  grievously  wounded,  lay  writhing 
in  pain,  working  himself  to  the  bluff's  edge,  and  then 
rolling  himself  completely  over  and  out  of  sight. 

Jack  drew  a  long  breath  and  could  not  refrain 
exchanging  smiles  and  congratulations  with  the  Half-Kiug. 
sxclaiming: 

"  Well,  Chief,  I  do  not  count  that  as  a  brilliant  success. 
You  tried  cold  water  yesterday,  and  it  was  healthy,  but 
scalding  hot  water  is  not  so  soothing.  It  bites  like  mustard, 
and  flays  like  a  seal  ping-knife.  Your  countrymen  have 
found  out  the  peculiarity  of  a  block-house  build.  What 
jext,  think  you?" 

The  Chief  gave  out  one  of  his  ghastly,  mechanical  laughs 
saying : 


DESPERATE  ATTACKS — JACK'S  FEATS.       193 

"  Scarooyaddy  not  know — but  something  very  bad.  He 
now  very  old,  but  never  saw  Sbawnee  make  such  big  jumps 
or  so  funny  noises,"  and  the  old  fellow,  followed  by  Jack, 
made  for  the  ladder  and  chuckled  all  the  way  down. 

They  were  not  long  in  finding  out  "  what  next."  The 
redtikins  seemed  fairly  maddened  with  their  late  punibh- 
ment,  and  an  hour  later  the  Chief  hurriedly  called 
Jack  to  the  front  of  the  house  again.  There  was  a  low, 
thatched  stable  at  some  little  distance,  to  which  the  Indians 
Kt.  fire,  and  while  the  flames  were  at  their  highest,  a  rude 
cart  with  heavy,  block  wheels,  and  filled  high  up  with  hay, 
was  seen  to  roll  forward  by  some  unseen  agency.  When 
near  the  house,  first  appeared  a  smoke,  and  then  a  bright 
flame  burst  out.  The  old  cart,  with  its  bursting  flames, 
and  big  pile  of  combustible  material,  was  thrust  up 
hard  against  the  cabin  wall  and  right  under  the  projection. 

The  inmates  stood  fairly  dismayed  and  paralyzed  at  this 
new  and  imminent  danger.  Jack  and  his  companion  were 
for  a  moment  appalled.  Before  they  could  get  a  shot  at 
the  fiendish  monsters  who  had  moved  up  behind  the  hay 
as  a  bulwark,  they  had  leaped  away  and  got  safely  off*. 

The  smoke  was  now  becoming  stifling,  and  the  dry  clap 
boards  on  the  roof  began  to  warp  and  curl  and  crackle  with 
the  heat.  A  half  minute  more  and  the  whole  house  would 
have  been  on  fire,  but  Jack  was  equal  to  the  danger.  It  was 
no  time  for  half  measures — here  was  an  emergency 
demanding  prompt  and  heroic  treatment.  He  quickly, 
therefore,  drew  back  the  bar,  threw  open  the  door,  and 
with  a  "  Follow  me,  Chief,  what  those  pitiless  demons  can  do 
fre  can  at  least  undo"  rushed  out. 

The  two  then  got  under  and  behind  the  cart,  and  pushed 
it  out  to  a  safe  distance  beyond  the  house,  and  then  rushed 
back  amid  a  shower  of  bullets.  With  Jack's  rifle  at  one 
angle,  and  the  Half-King's  at  the  other  angle  of  the  house, 
it  would  have  been  sure  death  for  any  Indian  to  have 
13 


194  OLD   FORT  DUQUESXE. 

again  approached,  and  so  they  were  fain  content  to  see  the 
hay  pile  and  cart  harmlessly  consumed  before  their  eyes. 
It  was  a  wonderful  escape,  though,  from  a  horrible  death, 
and  every  occupant  of  the  house  felt  it  most  deeply. 

Jack  looked  at  Scarooyaddy,  and  the  Chief  at  him. 
Both  shook  their  heads. 

"  What  say  you,  Chief,  shall  we  give  up,  open  the  door, 
and  trust  to  the  mercies  of  those  lambs  of  Shawnees?  May 
be  you  might  make  some  kind  of  terms  for  us." 

"No!  DO!  my  brother,"  vehemently  and  bitterly  broke 
out  the  Half-King,  "  too  much  kill,  too  much  kill!  Indian 
very,  very  mad ;  never  forgive  the  boiling  water,  and  the 
blood  blind  his  eyes  and  make  his  heart  like  stone. 
'Twould  be  this  for  all — may  be  worse,"  and  Scarooyaddy 
drew  the  back  of  his  sharp  knife  around  his  scalp-lock. 

"  As  you  say,  Chief.  That's  my  creed,  but  thought  I'd 
ask  you.  We'll  have  to  fight  it  out,  but  blest  if  I  ain't 
bothered  to  guess  what  the  varmints  will  do  next.  We've 
fought  them  many's  the  time  before,  but  we  never  were  in 
a  trap  like  this.  Do  you  see  them  ?  " 

No,  not  one  could  be  seen  or  heard — all  was  silent  again 
as  the  grave.  The  carcass  of  old  Dobbin,  and  the  smoking 
ashes  of  the  cart  and  hay  alone  told  of  an  enemy's  presence. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

M.  DE    BONNE1  ILLE  SHOT — A  DESPERATE   STRUGGLE. 

I  loathe  you  with  my  bosom !  I  scorn  you  with  mine  eye  ! 
And  I'll  taunt  you  with  my  latest  breath,  and  fight  you  till  I  die  1 
I  ne'er  will  ask  for  quarter,  and  I  ne'er  will  be  your  slave  1 
But  I'll  swim  the  sea  of  slaughter  till  I  sink  beneath  the  wave. 

The  Seminole. 

IT  was  now  about  five  of  the  evening,  and  so  long  a  time 
had  elapsed  since  there  was  any  indication  of  the  Shawuees, 
that  even  Scarooyaddy  began  to  hope  they  had  finally 
abandoned  the  assault  as  hopeless,  or  else  were  waiting  for 
reinforcements. 

Ah,  delusive,  short-lived  hope !  The  two  were  quietly 
Bitting  speculating  as  to  the  whereabouts  of  Braddock's 
army,  and  what  course  they  would  take  that  night  to  reach 
it,  and  how  and  when  they  would  set  out,  when  all  at  once 
a  horrible  shock  and  crash  and  clatter  were  heard  in  the 
loft,  immediately  followed  by  the  crack  of  a  rifle  and  a 
series  of  women's  screams. 

"My  God!  what  is  that?"  cried  Jack,  his  hair  fairly 
lifting  on  his  head,  as  he  made  one  bound  for  the  ladder, 
closely  followed  by  Scarooyaddy.  A  moment  more  and  he 
was  in  the  crowded  room,  glaring  around  like  a  tiger  who 
has  been  robbed  of  its  whelps.  What  a  sorry  spectacle 
was  there!  In  one  corner  lay  poor,  oldM.  de  Bonneville, 
insensate,  the  blood  oozing  from  a  bullet  wound,  and 
apparently  hurt  to  the  death.  There  stood  three  dusky, 
ferocious  and  horrid  looking  savages,  and  another  was  just 
coming  through  a  broad  hole  in  the  roof.  Jack  glared 

195 


196  OLD   FORT    DUQUESNE. 

from  one  to  the  other,  scarce  knowing  where  n  commence. 
He  soon  made  decision. 

Cue  of  the  brutes  had  his  red  hand  twined  in  Marie's 
Jong  tresses,  and  was  just  about  to  draw  around  the  fatal 
fccalping-kuife,  when  Jack  with  a  fierce  howl  of  rage  was 
upon  him  rith  the  tomahawk. 

"  There,  take  that,  and  that,  and  that,  you  infernal  hell 
hound! — and  now  show  me  another."  He  turned,  aud  saw 
the  Half-King  in  a  death-grapple  with  one,  while  another 
huge,  glistering  fellow  had  retreated  to  a  corner,  absolutely 
cowering  before  Jack's  blazing,  devouring  look.  "  You, 
too !  "  and  Jack  leaped  at  his  throat,  and  shook,  and  tore,  and 
worried  and  throttled  him,  bearing  him  violently  to  the 
floor  by  the  very  impetuosity  of  his  attack. 

He  had  succeeded  in  doubling  him  up,  and  was  actually 
squeezing,  and  crunching,  and  forcing  him  out  of  the 
eighteeu-inch  projection,  when  the  fourth  Indian,  who  had 
paused  at  the  roof-hole,  seeing  both  Jack  and  the  Half- 
King  fully  engaged,  jumped  down  right  on  the  scout's  back, 
but  he  was  the  veriest  fool  to  do  so. 

Jack,  while  he  lay  heavily  on  the  Indian  beneath  him, 
who,  almost  strangled  to  death,  could  make  no  resistance, 
suddenly  threw  around  both  his  hands  and  held  the  fresh 
Indian's  arms  as  if  they  were  in  a  vice,  crying  out, 
"  Marie !  Marie !  where  are  you  ?  Here  I  pass  that  thong 
around  this  assassin's  arms,  while  I  hold  him  ! " 

Marie,  who  had  just  recovered  sufficiently  to  go  to  the 
aid  of  her  poor,  stricken  father,  awakened  to  the  great 
danger  threatening  Jack,  and  hastened  to  pass  the  thong 
of  deerskin  again  and  again  and  again  about  the  Indian's 
arms,  when  Jack  gave  him  a  heave  and  a  toss,  and  he  lay 
on  the  ibor,  helpless  as  a  big  baby,  his  eyes  rolling  and  hia 
lecth  gnashing  with  rage. 

Meanwhile  Jack  continued  his  purpose  with  the  other, 
fkirly  pushing  him  out  and  down  from  under  the  projeo- 


A  DESPERATE  STRUGGLE.  197 

tion,  whence  he  fell  with  a  heavy  thud  on  the  ground 
beneath — a  totally  used-up  Indian. 

Scarooyaddy  bad  had  a  fierce  and  desperate  struggle 
with  his  foe,  and,  with  but  one  arm,  and  having  lo?t  hus 
tomahawk  in  the  struggle,  could  only  succeed  in  pinning 
him,  wounded,  in  one  corner.  lie,  too,  was  now  securely 
tied  and  laid  alongside  his  companion. 

"  Jennie,"  panted  Jack  out  of  breath,  "  hand  me  up  my 
rifle  1  I'm  not  done  yet,  till  I  see  how  the  infernal  scoun 
drels  got  in,  and  whether  there  are  any  more  of  this  hell- 
brood  out  there ; "  and  so  saying,  trembling  and  exhausted 
from  his  superhuman  exertions  and  the  closeness  of  the 
small  and  crowded  room,  he  passed  out  on  to  the  roof  just 
in  time  to  see  the  last  Indian  making  away  from  the  trunk 
of  the  big  walnut,  and  the  whole  secret  stood  revealed. 
The  wily  savages  had,  one  by  one,  climbed  the  huge  wal 
nut,  which  we  have  stated  grew  at  the  chimney  end  of  the 
house,  where  there  were  no  lookouts  or  loopholes.  Crawl 
ing  out  on  one  of  the  branches,  they  had  quietly  dropped 
one  by  one  upon  the  roof,  and,  removing  the  clapboards, 
had  leaped  into  the  room,  making  de  Bonneville  their  first 
victim. 

The  fresh  cool  air  from  the  river  somewhat  revived  Jack, 
and  leaving  the  roof  purposely  uncovered,  he  re-entered 
the  room.  Marie  was  sitting  on  the  floor,  the  very  picture 
of  stony  despair,  her  father's  venerable  head  resting  in  her 
lap.  Jack  sent  for  water,  and  carefully  lifting  the  body  of 
the  wounded  naturalist,  he  bore  him  tenderly,  and  laid  him 
on  the  rude  couch.  First  dashing  water  in  his  face  and 
fanning  his  cheeks,  he  then  succeeded,  with  Marie's  help, 
in  baring  the  wound.  It  was  a  small,  but  a  mortal  one — 
right  through  the  lungs.  There  was  a  deathly  pallor  on  nig 
delicate  features;  the  cold  dew?  were  on  his  brow,  and  hia 
eyes  were  closed  as  if  in  his  last  sleep. 

Jack's  bosom  heaved  pitcously.    He  could  not  trust  hin» 


i98  OLD    FORT   DUQUESSE. 

Bolf  to  speak.  He  simply  pressed  Marie's  hand,  as  if  tt 
assure  her  of  his  heartfelt  sympathy,  and  that  he  would  dc 
all  that  could  be  done. 

Marie  stirred  not — scarcely  breathed  ;  weep  she  could  not, 
but  sat  gazing  with  inexpressible  longing  down  into  her 
father's  wan  and  gentle  face,  waiting  till  the  closed  eyes  either 
waked  to  recognition,  or  were  quenched  in  eternal  sleep. 

Jack  now  quietly  assisted  the  Indian  to  convey  the  two 
prisoners  to  the  lower  floor.  They  were  shot  down  the  lad 
der  quite  as  fast,  though  not  so  hopefully,  as  they  came  into 
the  loft,  and  were  then  stretched  side  by  side,  amiable  as 
two  turtle  doves.  The  body  of  the  vile  fellow  whom  Jack 
had  so  violently  untwisted  from  Marie's  tresses,  was  cast 
out  on  the  roof,  whence  he  rolled  over  and  down,  dead  aa 
Julius  Csesar.  Jennie  Frazier  and  her  mother  were  then 
sent  above  to  arrange  the  loft  and  stay  with  Marie,  while 
Jack  and  the  Half-King  anxiously  and  in  low  tones  dis 
cussed  the  situation. 

"  Oh,  Chief!  what  can  we  do,  with  that  above,  and  those 
around  ?  Think  you  they'll  give  it  up  now  ? " 

Scarooyaddy  shook  his  head.  "  No ;  Shawnee  madder 
than  ever.  Dare  not  go  home  with  so  many  hurt  and 
gone.  They  know  only  us  two  here,  and  can  send  for 
plenty  braves.  Scarooyaddy  ready.  Rather  fight  than 
burn  at  stake." 

"And  so  I,  but  would  rather  get  out  of  this  cursed  trap 
than  do  either.  Will  old  Braddock  never,  never  come  ?  If 
he  had  American  rangers  to  the  fore,  they'd  ha'  been  in 
the  fort  a  month  since." 

He  had  scarcely  given  utterance  to  the  words,  when  the 
Half-King's  quick  ear  was  turned  quickly  and  attentively 
towards  the  river.  One  of  the  bound  and  helpless  pris 
oners  had,  also,  heard  an  unusual  sound  in  that  direction, 
as  his  face  was  all  life  and  expectation. 

A  noise  as  of  talking  and  splashing  of  water  was  now 


A  DESPERATE  STRUGGLE.  199 

distinctly  heard,  and  the  Half-King  leaped  to  a  river-side 
loophole,  with  Jack  close  at  his  side.  Oh,  welcome  sight ! 
A  body  of  horse,  led  by  an  old  Indian  wading  on  foot,  was 
clearly  visible  not  a  hundred  yards  from  shore. 

"  Hurrah  !  hurrah !  Yaddy.  Braddock  at  last !  at  last ! 
— the  slothful  old  laggard !  There's  his  advance,  but  how 
ever  in  the  world  does  he  come  that  way?  Hurrah!  hur 
rah  !  "  and  Jack  seized  hold  of  the  Half-King's  hand,  and 
shook  it  like  a  pump-handle.  The  Indian's  face  broke  into 
one  huge  grin,  and  another  of  his  stomach  laughs  was 
emitted. 

"  But,  hold ! "  said  Jack,  "  what  am  I  thinking  of?  I  must 
hasten  to  hail  and  warn  them  of  Indians ; "  and  so  saying 
he  danced  up  the  ladder  and  re-entered  that  sad  room. 

Marie  was  sitting  just  as  he  had  left  her,  gazing  down 
into  her  father's  face;  oh,  so  earnestly,  for  one,  ever  so 
slight,  symptom  of  returning  consciousness.  Jack  ap- 
pix/ached  her. 

"  Marie,  we're  saved  !  Braddock's  advance  is  even  now 
crossing  the  river — will  be  here  in  a  jiffy.  I'm  going  now 
to  hail  them." 

Marie  sadly  shook  her  head.  "  It  matters  little  now, 
Edward;  'tis  too  late  for  me,  and — him"  and  then,  for  the 
first  time,  broke  out  into  a  violent  flood  of  tears. 

"  Weep  on,  Marie,  'twill  do  you  great  good  I  I'll  be  baek 
Boon ; "  and  seizing  an  old  quilt,  he  sprang  out  upon  the 
roof,  and  waved  it  most  vigorously.  The  old  Indian  saw 
it  at  once,  and  turned  to  the  leader  of  the  band.  Then  the 
notes  of  a  bugle  sounded  out  clear  and  strong  and  sweet, 
filling  the  hills  with  echoes. 

Jack  motioned  them  to  come  near  as  possible,  and  pointed 
to  the  woods.  As  they  advanced,  Jack  recognized  Captain 
Waggoner,  of  the  Virginia  Rifles,  in  the  front,  and  shouted, 
u  Hold  off,  Waggoner !  Have  a  care !  we're  standing  a  siege 


200  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 

from  a  gang  of  redskins.  They're  skulking  in  the  woodj 
there." 

"  And  is  that  you,  Captain  Jack  ?  Hurrah !  hurrah !  Cap, 
we're  all  devilish  glad  to  see  you  again.  Braddock  had 
almost  given  you  up  as  lost — Gist  and  Fairfax  got  back 
yesterday.  Where's  the  Half-King  and  Talbot  ?  " 

"  The  Indian's  with  me.  The  young  Lord's  I  don't  know 
where — killed  or  captured  I  expect.  If  you've  a  mind  to 
come  on,  the  Half-King  and  I'll  join  you — don't  think  the 
Shawnees  will  stand  a  fight.  They're  pretty  sick  of  it." 

"  All  right,  Captain,  we're  with  you ! "  and  again  the  bugle 
sounded,  the  horses  broke  into  a  trot,  a  dash  was  made  up 
the  bank,  and  the  whole  party  drew  up  at  the  door  of  the 
cabin,  just  as  a  scattering  volley  was  poured  at  them  from 
the  woods.* 

*  Captain  Thos.  Waggoner  was  a  lieutenant  in  Washington's  cam 
paign  of  '54,  and  was  slightly  wounded  at  Jumonville's  defeat.  He 
had  previously  served  under  Governor  Shirley.  At  the  battle  of  Fort 
Necessity  he  acted  as  lieutenant,  and  was  one  of  those  thanked  by  the 
Virginia  legislature.  His  gallant  conduct  at  Braddock's  bp.ttle  will 
hereafter  appear.  He  continued  in  service  so  late  as  1757. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 
M.  DE  BONNEVILLE'S  DYING  REQUEST. 

Death  should  come 

Gently  to  one  of  geutle  mould  like  thee; 
As  light  winds,  wandering  through  groves  of  bloom, 
Detach  the  delicate  blossoms  from  the  tree. 
Close  thy  sweet  eyes  calmly,  and  without  pain. — Bryant, 

The  tongues  of  dying  men 
Enforce  attention  like  deep  harmony. 
More  are  men's  ends  mark'd  than  their  lives  before, 
The  setting  sun,  and  music  at  the  close, 
As  the  last  taste  of  sweets,  is  sweetest  last. 

Richard  the  Second. 

As  Captain  Jack  hurried  down  from  the  roof  to  receive 
the  small  troop  of  "  light-horse,"  he  was  momentarily  ar 
rested  by  Marie's  joyful  exclamation : 

"  Oh,  Edward,  father  has  'wakened  again  to  life  and 
sense.  He  just  now  languidly  opened  his  eyes  and  asked 
if  they  were  gone,  and  how  he  came  on  the  couch,  and  if  he 
didn't  hear  the  sounds  of  some  strange  music.  See  1  he 
looks  at  you.  Speak  to  him,  Edward  I " 

Jack  gently  approached  the  old  naturalist's  side  and 
took  his  hand. 

"Well,  Monsieur  de  Bonneville,  we're  saved  at  last 
Braddock's  '  body-guard '  is  even  now  at  the  door.  You've 
received  a  terrible  shock,  sir,  but  I  trust  all  will  soon  be 
well." 

The  old  gentleman  feebly  shook  his  head,  and  answered 
in  almost  inaudible  tones :  "  All  will  soon  be  well,  indeed, 

201 


202  OLD    FORT   DUQUESNE. 

Edward,  but  not  in  the  sense  you  mean.  I  can't  deceive 
myself.  There's  internal  bleeding.  My  summons  has 
come ;  I've  received  a  mortal  hurt ;  I  feel  I'm  stricken  to 
the  death." 

"  Oh,  don't  say  so,  sir ! "  answered  Jack,  hastily  brushing 
away  a  tear.  "  You're  grievously  hurt,  to  be  sure ;  but  I 
think — at  least  I  hope — all  will  yet  come  right.  I'll  be 
back  in  a  few  minutes." 

And  the  ranger  hastened  to  unbar  the  door,  around 
which  the  gallant  little  Virginia  "troop"  had  grouped 
themselves. 

"  Captain  Waggoner,  you're  just  in  the  very  nick  of 
time,  and  right  glad  we  are  to  see  you.  We  had  almost 
given  up  all  hope.  There's  been  sad  and  bloody  work 
here."  And  Jack  rapidly  recounted  all  that  had  occurred, 
and  the  trying  scenes  they  had  just  gone  through.  "  And 
how  came  you,  Waggoner,  a  captain  of  Virginia  Rangers, 
to  be  at  the  head  of '  Stewart's  light-horse  ? ' ' 

"  Oh,  by  special  favor,  Jack,"  answered  Waggoner — as 
dashing  and  gallant  a  ranger  as  ever  hailed  from  the  "  Old 
Dominion."  "  You  know  I  was  all  over  this  country  last 
year,  in  Major  Washington's  campaign,  and  as  I  was  anx- 
icus  to  come  and  Braddock  to  have  me  come,  Stewart  made 
no  difficulty,  but  gave  me  half  his  '  troop ' — I've  only  fif 
teen  in  all.  I'm  glad  you  call  us  '  light-horse,'  Jack  ;  any 
thing  else  would  be  a  misnomer.  Look  at  them !  Did  you 
ever,  in  all  your  born  days,  see  such  a  wretched,  shackeldy, 
broken-down  looking  set  of  old  skeletons  ?  Why,  a  flock 
of  eagles  and  carrion  crows  follow  us  like  shadows !  How 
do  you  think  any  one  of  these  transparent  anatomies  would 
answer  Job's  description  of  the  war-horse,  '  whose  neck  is 
clothed  with  thunder,  who  paweth  in  the  valleys,  who 
Bmclleth  the  battle  afar  off,  and  who  crieth  ha  !  ha !  among 
the  trumpeters  ? '  Bah  !  you  could  knock  down  a  whole 


GEN.  WASHINGTON  AT  25. 


M.  DE  BONNEVILLE'S  DYING  REQUEST.          203 

file  of  them  with  your  fist.  They  look  like  standing  ad 
vertisements  of 'oats  and  corn  wanted — inquire  within.'  " 

"  They  make  a  big  clatter,  at  all  events,"  laughed  Jack, 
"  and  that's  enough  for  Indians.  They're  as  much  afraid 
of  your  '  troop,'  ghostly  as  the  animals  look,  as  if  they  wero 
elephants.  Certes,  Braddock  has  been  villanously  cheated 
in  his  horse-flesh  I  He  has  all  the  spavined,  wind-galled, 
string-halt  and  broken-winded  horses  in  the  whole  country. 
Put  yours,  Waggoner,  alongside  of  the  draught  horses — • 
those  miserable  bundles  of  bones,  and  be  content,  old  fel 
low."  (See  Appendix  O.) 

"  Well,"  laughed  Waggoner,  "  these'll  maybe  last  to  the 
fort ;  but  if  we  don't  soon  give  'em  rest,  and  something  be 
sides  leaves  and  wood-grass,  they'll  have  to  lean  against  a 
tree  to  eat.  Wo  I  wo !  Bucephalus ;  stand  away,  Jack, 
from  my  horse's  head,  with  his  flaming  eye  and  smoking 
nostrils,  or  he'll  ride  right  over  you  !  If  he  once  takes  you 
for  a  sack  of  oats,  you're  a  goner,  sure.  Dismount,  men, 
and  turn  'em  loose  for  a  while,  and  drag  away  those  two 
painted  carcasses  from  the  door !  " 

"Hadn't  we  better,"  put  in  Jack,  "scour  the  woods  be 
fore  Braddock  comes  up  ?  " 

"  Braddock  comes  up  ?  Why,  Cap,  what  dy'e  mean  ? 
You  don't  think  this  'troop'  the  'advance,'  do  you?  Why, 
bless  you,  we're  an  exploring  party.  The  army's  a  good 
two  days'  march  from  here.  It  has  taken  a  '  circumben 
dibus' — is  away  out  of  its  direct  course,  and  the  eastern 
branch  of  'Turtle  Creek  which  the  army  reaches  to-night, 
is  said  by  the  engineers  to  be  so  steep  and  rugged  and 
utterly  impracticable  for  waggons  and  artillery,  that  there's 
no  getting  over  Turtle  Creek  Valley  that  way,  but  by 
means  of  a  long  and  expensive  bridge,  which  will  cause 
a  longer  delay  than  Braddock  can  afford  to  stand  just 
now." 

*  Well,  what  in   heaven's  name,"  pc-ttishly  exclarucd 


204  OLD    FORT   DUQUEaNE. 

Jack,  "  is  the  old  bungler  going  to  do  now  ?  He'd  be^  * 
'  box  the  whole  compass/  work  round  and  attack  the  fort 
from  the  West." 

"  Sh-h-h,  Jack — a  good  many  ears  about ;  for  one  of  ua 
ignorant  provincials  to  say  anything  against  Braddock  is 
'  flat  treason.'  Some  of  his  Indian  guides  have  told  him 
there's  a  much  easier  route  to  the  fort  the  way  we've  just 
come — one,  too,  by  which  he  can  avoid  a  dangerous  '  nar 
rows  '  of  three  miles  on  the  Mouougahela.  The  General  has 
sent  us  forward  to  test  the  matter,  and  sure  enough  we've 
crossed  both  fords  this  evening,  and  the  whole  route  is 
comparatively  so  favorable  that  there  isn't  much  doubt 
that  Braddock  will  adopt  it,  and  '  right  about  face ' 
immediately.  We  must  go  back  to-night  to  report.'' 

"  Good ! "  cried  Jack ;  "  we'll  go  with  you.  But  stay ! — de 
Bonneville ;  he's  dying,  I  fear,  and  can't  be  moved. 
What's  to  be  done  ?  Are  you  sure  Braddock  will  be  thia 
way  by  the  8th  ?  " 

"That  or  the  next,  if  our  report  pleases.  But  we'll 
talk  of  this  again.  Call  the  Half-King,  &nd  let's  scour 
those  woods  on  foot !  " 

"  Oh,  the  Chief  don't  need  calling,  whoii  there's  any  of 
that  business  about.  There  he  stands,  ears  cocked,  eyes 
live  as  coals,  fingers  twitching,  ready  for  the  signal !  As 
we're  old  woodsmen,  he'll  lead  the  way  on  this  side,  while 
I'll  do  the  same  on  the  other.  Come,  Chief!  " 

Both  parties  now  entered  the  woods  at  either  end  of  the 
cabin,  and  worked  cautiously  around  to  the  front  where 
they  met.  All  quiet.  Every  redskin  gone.  No  sign  of 
an  enemy  except  a  rude,  insulting  inscription  or  two,  cut 
on  the  fresh  peeled  trees,  which  made  the  Half-King's  eyes 
flash.  They  had  plainly  hurried  back  to  the  fort  for  rein 
forcements,  and  to  relate  what  they  had  seen — a  body  of 
horse  coming  from  an  entirely  unexpected  direction. 

The  whole  party  now  prepared  for  a  rest,  and  made 


M.  DE  BONNEVILLE'S  DYING  REQUEST.          205 

themselves  as  comfortable  as  possible.  The  horses  were 
itripped  of  saddle  and  bridle,  and  turned  out  to  grass. 
Jennie  and  her  mother,  greatly  overjoyed  at  the  favorable 
turn  matters  had  taken,  gathered  provisions  and  com 
menced  preparations  for  supper.  The  troopers  pulled  out 
their  pipes,  and  stretching  themselves  along  the  grassy 
river  bluff,  chatted  in  quiet  tones,  or  cast  hungry  and  ex 
pectant  eyes  towards  the  cabin.  All  knew  by  this  time 
every  thing  that  had  occurred,  and  while  old  M.  de  Bou- 
neville  was  gently  breathing  away  his  life,  these  unlet 
tered  but  intelligent  Virginians  kept  decorous  and  re 
spectful  silence. 

Meanwhile  Jack,  finding  that  Captain  Waggoner  was 
obliged  to  make  a  speedy  departure,  and  was  unable  to 
leave  any  of  his  small  force  behind,  had  arranged  with  him 
to  have  Marie's  father  carried  between  two  of  the  horses 
on  a  rude  litter,  hoping  that  the  army  doctors  could  yet 
do  something  for  him. 

Alas,  vain  hope !  While  busy  with  his  preparations, 
Jack  was  hastily  summoned  to  the  loft  by  a  message  from 
Marie.  A  wondrous  change  had  already  come  over  M. 
de  Bonneville.  His  eyes  had  an  unnatural  brilliancy. 
His  breathing  had  become  more  difficult;  his  delicate 
features  were  pinched,  and  his  whole  appearance  gave 
evidence  that  the  seal  of  death  was  on  his  brow.  There 
was  no  mistaking  those  peculiar,  infallible  signs  by  which 
all  know  and  feel  that  a  loved  one  has  been  called  and  is 
passing  away ;  that  an  immortal  and  Heaven-born  soul 
is  being  gradually  withdrawn  from  its  earthly  tabernacle 
' — about  to  enter  the  awful  mysteries  of  another  and  a 
better  world. 

The  old  naturalist  extended  his  thin  wan  hand,  and  wel 
comed  Jack  back  with  a  smile  full  of  affection.  Death 
evidently  had  no  terrors  for  him.  Why  should  it? 

"  Fdward,  I  know  a^d  I  feel  it.     It  could  not  be  other. 


206  OLD    FORT    DUQUESXB. 

wise.  I  have  but  a  very  brief  time  yet  to  live.  Be  patient 
with  roe,  for  I  have  something  to  ask  you  which  must  be 
granted.  Promise  me ! " 

Jack  turned  away,  sobbing,  from  that  gentle,  patient, 
yearning,  spirituclle  face,  with  its  delicate  tracery  of  fine, 
blue  veins,  and  crowned  with  its  long,  silken,  white  hair. 
His  eyes  met  those  of  Marie,  who  sat  at  the  foot  of  the 
couch,  her  countenance  pale  with  weeping,  her  whole 
frame  convulsed,  her  heart  breaking — the  very  picture 
of  hopeless  sorrow.  His  tongue  refused  to  syllable  a 
word.  He  could  only  press  tenderly  the  old  naturalist's 
hand. 

"  Thanks,  dear  boy !  I  knew  you  would  not,  could  not 
refuse  my  last  simple  request.  Look  around !  This  room 
is  hot,  dark,  gloomy,  contracted.  The  air  is  close  and  stif 
ling.  I  can't  see,  can't  hear,  can't  smell,  can  scarcely 
breathe.  'Tis  no  fit  place  for  one  who  has  lived  as  I  have 
lived,  and  who  has  loved  nature  as  I  have  loved — her  fresh 
breezes ;  her  blessed  sunshine ;  her  leaves  and  flowers ;  her 
naming  waters,  and  all  her  soothing,  wooing  influences — • 
this  is  no  place  for  me  to — to — why  should  I  hesitate  to  say 
the  word  ? — to  die  in." 

"  Oh,  Father,  dear  Father,"  pleaded  Marie,  her  eyes 
streaming  with  tears,  and  an  imploring  look  in  her  sad 
face,  "  do  not !  do  not  break  your  daughter's  heart !  You 
cannot,  must  not  die !  'twould  kill  me,  too !  You  must 
live!  Braddock's  own  physician  will  see  you  and  dress 
your  wound,  while  I  myself  will  nurse  you  back  to  health 
and  strength.  Wont  you  try  to  live,  dear  Father?" 

The  dying  old  man  gazed  wistfully  at  Marie,  with  a 
look  of  unutterable  sadness  and  tenderness.  The  tears  wel 
led  up  to  his  eyes,  and  there  was  a  choking  in  his  throat. 
He  could  not  speak  one  word.  At  last : 

"  Marie,  dearest  child,  you  have  been  to  me  more  than 
daughter  ever  was  to  parent — as  much  as  ever  wife  to 


M.  DE  BONNEVILLE'S  DYING  REQUEST.         207 

husband.  Your  whole  life  has  been  one  long  act  of  self- 
sacrifice  and  of  devotion  to  one  who  only  now — in  the 
solemn,  serene  light  of  another  world — begins  to  see  and 
to  realize  how  exacting  he  was,  and  how  utterly  unselfish 
you  were — " 

"  Oh,  Father,  do  not—" 

"  Say  no  more,  Marie,  I  entreat !  You  unman  me !  you 
change  the  current  of  my  last  thoughts.  God  knows,  if 
this  change  is  hard  for  you,  'tis  much  harder  for  me.  1 
have  been  trying — oh,  no  one  knows  how  earnestly — to  riso 
above  all  mere  earthly  thoughts,  all'  human  affections ;  but, 
dear  child,  you  are  tugging  at  my  heart-strings.  Have 
pity !  My  strength  is  ebbing  with  my  time." 

Marie,  by  one  strong,  mighty  effort,  stilled  her  emotions, 
and  bent  over  her  father's  hand.  A  brief  and  solemn  pause : 

"  My  dying  request,  Edward,  is,  that  you  carry  me  from 
this  stifling,  pent-up  room,  out  into  the  fresh  air  and  under 
the  open  sky.  Spread  my  bed  on  the  bank  of  the  Monou- 
gahela.  I  wish  to  see  the  sun  make,  for  me,  its  last  golden 
set ;  to  look  once  again  on  the  virgin  woods,  under  whose 
green,  leafy  canopy  I've  spent  so  many  quiet,  happy  years. 
I  yearn  to  breathe  God's  pure  air,  and  gather  in — only  this 
once — the  freshness  of  evening.  Hasten,  then,  Edward, 
ere  it  may  be  too  late  ! " 

Jack  exchanged  a  few  words  with  Marie,  gave  brief  di 
rections  to  Jennie,  and  when  all  was  ready,  he  tenderly 
took  up  in  his  strong  arms  the  form  of  the  fragile  old  man, 
and  gently  conveyed  it  below  ;  passed  out  amid  the  silent, 
wondering  troopers,  and  placed  him  in  a  half-reclining 
position  on  a  couch  on  the  banks  of  the  river  and  at  the 
foot  of  the  big  walnut. 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

THE   DEATH   OF  THE   OLD   NATURALIST. 

Nay,  nothing !  all  is  said ; 

IJis  tongue  is  now  a  striugless  instrument; 

Words,  life,  and  all,  old  Lancaster  uath  spent. 

Richard  the  Second. 

His  life  was  gentle :  and  the  elements 

So  mixed  in  him,  that  nature  might  stand  up 

And  say  to  all  the  world :  Thit  was  a  man  I 

Julitu  Ccaar. 

THE  sun  was  just  descending  behind  the  western  hills ; 
aud  as  the  old  naturalist  looked  upon  it,  with  all  its  golden, 
dying  glories  and  its  varied  tints  and  hues,  and  then  out 
upon  the  river,  and  then  across  and  around  at  the  thick, 
leafy  wilderness,  an  expression  of  intense,  restful  satisfac 
tion  came  over  his  face.  His  smile  was  almost  seraphic. 
The  freshening  airs ;  the  odors  from  the  water  and  the 
woods  ;  the  glowing  colors  of  the  clouds,  all  seemed  to  re 
vive  him,  and  he  murmured : 

"  Ah,  this  is  better,  far  .better!  So  I  have  lived,  and  so 
I  would  die;  and  yet  'tis  hard  to  lose  one's  hold  of  earth ; 
never  again  to  see  the  varied  beauties — again  to  feel  the 
multiplied  delights  which  attend  and  minister  unto  nature's 
devout  worshipper.  Who  knows  but  still  fairer  scenes,  and 
Btill  more  varied  pleasures  await  me  in  the  world  to  which 
I'm  hastening ! " 

The  old  Frenchman  now  lay  a  long  time  in  silence,  his 
failing  sight  taking  in  lovingly,  and  one  by  one,  each  fea- 
203 


THE    DEATH   OF   THE   OLD   NATURALIST.  209 

ture  of  the  beautiful  panorama  of  cloud,  woods  and  water. 
The  shades  of  evening  soon  commenced  to  gather.  After 
a  little,  de  Bonneville  asked  Jack  to  raise  him  higher,  and 
Marie  to  bring  him  his  flute. 

The  poor,  wo-begone  girl  hesitated,  but  upon  a  glance 
from  Jack,  she  hastened,  amid  blinding  tears,  to  comply. 

It  was  a  sad  and  inexpressibly  touching  sight  to  see  the 
dying  naturalist,  his  snowy  beard  waving  over  his  breast, 
his  eyes,  for  the  last  time,  lighted  up  with  their  old  enthu 
siasm,  and  his  white  and  delicate  fingers  wandering  and 
trembling  among  the  stops  of  the  instrument. 

He  commenced  with  low,  sweet,  fluttering  notes,  which 
rose  higher  and  higher,  fuller  and  fuller,  richer  and  richer, 
until  it  seemed  as  if  the  parting  soul  were  being  breathed 
into  and  floated  off  on  the  wild  melodies.  It  was  most 
touching.  The  troopers,  with  Captain  Waggoner  at  their 
head,  stood  grouped  at  a  little  distance,  hats  in  hand,  and 
in  respectful  attitudes  of  listening  attention.  The  notes 
now  became  again  softer  and  wilder,  more  plaintive  and 
subduing,  until  finally  an  expression  of  anguish  passed 
over  the  changing  face ;  the  flute  was  laid  aside,  and  all 
but  Jack — even  Mario — requested  to  retire. 

"  Edward,"  almost  whispered  the  old  man,  "  I  feel  I'm 
sinking  fast.  I  have  kept  this  to  the  last,  but  can  no  longer 
delay.  Marie — oh!  Edward,  it  wrings  my  very  soul  to 
leave  her  thus,  and  alone  I  What  is  to  become  of  her  ? 
She  had  only  me  in  the  world.  Will  you,  my  dear  boy, 
see  her  safe  to  the  army  ?  and  after  the  fort  is  captured, 
accompany  her  to  Philadelphia  ?  'Tis  my  dying  request." 

"  Trust  me,  M.  de  Bonneville ;  I'll  do  all  you  can  wish, 
and  more  than  you  -can  ask !  " 

"  Thanks,  Edward  !    I  knew  your  kind  nature.     I  ha  J 

many,  many  friends  in  that  city.     They  would  have  aided 

me  to  publish  my  paintings  and  writings.     They  may  do  it 

for  Marie.     'Twill  be  occupation  and  support  for  Ler.    Oh, 

14 


210  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 

how  keenly  I  regret  that  the  absorbing  work  of  my  life  is 
thus  abruptly  cut  off;  that  all  my  dreams,  my  heart  hopes 
and  fondest  aspirations,  have  thus  been  crushed — utterly 
crushed — ut-ter-ly  crushed.  But  God's  will  be  done !  "  and 
the  dying  old  naturalist  closed  his  eyes  as  if  in  silent 
prayer. 

"  And,  Edward,"  after  a  pause,  he  muttered,  in  still  feebler 
tones,  "  draw  yet  closer.  You'll  sometimes,  as  you  visit 
the  city,  go  to  Marie,  console  her,  direct  her,  strengthen 
her,  and  give  her  the  benefit  of  your  counsel.  You  used 
to  love  her  society.  At  one  time  I  thought  you  had  even 
a  stronger  and  deeper  feeling  than  mere  friendship,  but 
your  sudden  departure  from  the  city  undeceived  me.  Yet 
Btill— " 

"  Oh,  my  dear  M.  de  Bonneville,  I  had !  I  had !  I  loved 
Marie  as  fervently  as  ever  man  loved  woman,  and  I  noie 
believe  she  returned  it;  but  I  acted  like  a  fool, and  rashly 
madly  cast  the  rich  blessing  away  ;  but  I've  been  punished 
in  a  bitter,  desolate,  revengeful  life — yes,  sorely  punished ! 
I  love  her  yet,  as  much — yes,  more  than  ever  I  I — " 

"  Edward,  I  did  not  know — could  not  have  guessed  this," 
whispered  the  fond  father,  "  or  I  would  not  have  spoken  so 
freely.  Forgive  me  ;  I  believe  my  senses  wandered.  Does 
Marie  know  this  ?  Think  you  she  returns  your  affection  ? 
Have  you  told  her  ? "  with  a  brightening  and  more  eager 
look. 

"  I  have  not,  and  can  not,  yet.  May  be  some  time  in  the 
future,  after  this  bloody  war  is  over,  I'll — " 

"  Oh,  I  feel  that  she  will,  she  must  love  you  !  She  never 
has  loved  another !  There,  leave  me  now !  God  blesa 
you  !  I  commit  Marie,  for  the  present,  to  your  honorable 
protection.  I  feel  happier  and  easier  already;  but  I'm 
getting  ve-ry,  ve-ry — weak.  My  eyes  grow  dim.  Oh,  Sa 
viour,  can — this — be— death?  Send  Marie  to  me;  ^uick! 
quick!" 


THE    DEATH    OF   THE   OLD   NATURALIST.  211 

Marie  was  soon  locked  in  her  dying  father's  embrace.  It 
is  not  for  us  to  intrude  on  that  last  sad,  sacred  interview 
between  father  and  only  child.  The  tears  of  both  were 
freely  blended.  They  talked  of  the  past,  of  the  dead  mother 
and  wife ;  of  the  future  and  its  prospects.  Marie  was  told 
of  Jack's  promise  to  see  her  safe  to  Philadelphia,  but  not 
one  word  of  his  declaration — naught  but  the  simple  expres- 
gion  of  the  father's  confidence  in  Jack  as  one  whom  he  had 
long  known  and  esteemed  as  a  friend,  and  as  one  whom  he 
had  secretly  hoped  to  call  some  day  by  a  nearer  and  dearer 
title. 

The  old  man,  after  this  most  harrowing  interview,  sank 
back  completely  exhausted.  His  wound  was  bleeding  in 
wardly,  and  his  strength  and  life  were  rapidly  ebbing 
away.  His  eyes  now  began  to  wander.  His  lips  moved, 
but  the  utterance  was  rambling  and  incoherent.  Occasion 
ally  he  would  point  up  to  the  river,  and  then  look  up  to 
the  sky.  He  babbled  of  birds  and  their  plumage  :  of  the 
cool,  dewy  woods  and  their  indwellers;  of  wild  flowers  and 
wood  shrubs  and  their  fragrances,  until  it  seemed  as  if  his 
whole  soul  was  steeped  with  beauty,  and  his  memory  filled 
with  nothing  but  scenes  and  adventures  among  hills  and 
dales,  woods  and  waters. 

At  last,  by  an  unusual  effort,  he  raised  himself  up  once 
more,  turned  his  fading  vision  to  the  tinted,  radiant  clouds, 
and  whispered,  "Oh,  Edward !  oh,  Marie!  my  dear  children, 
I  seem  to  see  in  the  glowing  track  of  that  western  sun,  long 
vistas  of  the  most  beautiful  and  luxuriant  trees,  with  their 
clambering  vines  and  exquisite  shrubs  and  flowers.  They 
are  all  filled  with  birds  of  strange  forms  and  brilliant 
plumage.  The  most  delightful  music  fills  the  air.  The 
breezes  are  spiced  with  odors ;  the — and — and — I  go  to 
enjoy  them — oh,  so  gladly !  I  thank  the  dear  God,  who 
knows  all  my  tastes  and  loves,  and — that — He  has  still 
wo-k  for  me.  Marie!  Edward!  where  are  you?  I  no 


212  OLD    FORT    DUQUESNE. 

bnger  see  you ;  a  hand  of  each !  Farewell  forever  I  Come, 
blessed—" 

The  old,  -white-haired  enthusiast  sank  back  as  if  in  a 
swoon,  and  breathed  his  life  away  so  gently,  so  softly,  that 
the  crowd  of  weepers  near  and  distant  could  scarce  believe 
it  was  anything  else  but  sleep — so,  indeed,  it  was ;  long 
ami  sweet  and  dreamless. 

A  hurried  consultation  soon  followed  between  Jack  and 
Waggoner  as  to  what  were  best  to  be  done.  The  troop 
must  go  back  to  Braddock  as  soon  as  possible.  The  others 
could  not  be  left  behind.  This  necessitated  either  the 
transporting  of  the  body,  or — harsh  and  hard  as  it  seemed 
— its  almost  immediate  burial.  "Waggoner  took  it  on  him- 
eelf  to  arrange  pillions  on  which  to  seat  Jennie  and  her 
mother,  each  behind  one  of  the  troopers,  and,  by  dismount 
ing  one  of  his  men,  to  prepare  a  horse  for  Marie.  A 
rude  coffin  was  knocked  together  in  the  woods  to  receive 
the  mortal  remains  of  M.  de  Bouneville. 

Jack,  after  a  long  struggle,  resolved  to  break  the  arrange 
ment  to  Marie — a  most  unwelcome  task,  but  better  from 
him  than  another.  Sending  Jennie  and  her  mother  forward 
to  prepare  the  body,  dressed  just  as  it  was,  for  burial,  he 
took  the  crushed  and  weeping  Marie  gently  by  the  hand, 
and  led  her  into  the  cabin. 

"  Marie,  you  are  a  sensible,  self-reliant  woman  ;  you  see 
the  strait  we're  in.  We  must  all  be  off  from  this  in  a 
couple  of  hours,  or  else  be  slain  and  scalped.  It  seems  hard 
and  cruel  for  me  to  tell  you — and  I  would  rather,  this 
minute,  be  bound  and  going  to  the  fort  as  Blackboof'a 
prisoner  than  do  it — but  your  dear  father  must  be  burifid 
now,  and  here." 

''•  Oh,  Edward !  Edward ! "  pleaded  the  poor,  stricken  girl, 
making  the  most  heroic  effort  to  restrain  her  tears,  and  to 
furce  down  the  choking  in  her  throat;  "must  this,  indeed, 
be  ?  Oh,  'tis  a  hard,  hard,  cruel  lot,  and  yet — oh !  could  we 


THE   DEATH   OF   THE   OLD   NATURALIST.  213 

not  carry  ? — but  no.  I  see  it  all.  I  must  submit.  I  know 
you'd  spare  me  tin?  if  you  could,"  and  Marie  leaned  her 
head  upon  the  table  and  sobbed  as  if  her  very  heart  would 
break. 

Jack  could  be  of  no  use  there.  Better  for  nature  to  take 
its  course ;  so  he  hunted  up  Waggoner,  who  had  just  given 
command  to  get  all  ready,  and  led  him  to  the  cabin  door, 
saying  in  low  tones . 

"  Captain,  what's  to  be  done  with  the  Shawnees  that  I've 
had  carried  out  nere?  There  they  lie,  rolling  their  wicked 
little  eyes,  venomous  as  two  copperheads." 

"  Well,  Jack,  that  passes  me  ;  I've  been  thinking  of  it. 
Our  two  Indians,  if  we'd  allow  it,  would  make  short  work 
of  them,  and  have  the  Shawnee  scalps  hanging  at  their  gir 
dles  quick  as  a  wink.  'T would  be  fifty  good  pounds  in 
their  pockets,  too ;  but  that's  not  to  be  thought  of.  We're 
white,  and  can't  murder  in  cold  bloou." 

"  Of  course  not,"  said  Jack.  "  I've  reason  enough  to  hate 
redskins,  as  you  know — these  devils  in  particular — and  if 
the  fellows  were  behind  their  trees,  with  rifle  in  hand,  I'd 
like  nothing  better  than  a  drive  at  them ;  but  we've  had 
enough  of  blood  here.  We  can't  send  them  adrift,  with 
what  they  know,  to  the  fort ;  that's  sure.  We  can't  leave 
them  in  the  cabin ;  that's  even  more  sure.  I  see  nothing 
for  it  but  drive  them  along  before  us,  and  if  they  give  trou 
ble,  let  them  look  out  I  " 

"  Well,  so  be  it !  The  Half-King  had  better  see  their 
hands  are  firmly  bound,  and  loose  their  feet  and  tell  them 
what  we've  resolved  on." 

Scarooyaddy,  who  had  been  sitting  on  the  river  bluff, 
his  head  bowed  down,  for  hours  back,  didn't  much  like  this 
arrangement,  but  had  to  submit ;  and  he  and  Waggoner's 
guide  hastened  to  have  the  Shawnees  ready,  and  promised 
to  watch  over  them 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

THE  BURIAL   AND   DEPARTURE. 

Call  it  not  vain !  they  do  not  err 

Who  say  that  when  the  poet  dies, 
ilute  Nature  mourns  her  worshipper, 

And  celebrates  his  obsequies  ; 
Who  say,  tall  cliff  and  cavern  lone, 
For  the  departed  bard  make  moan  ; 
That  mountains  weep  in  crystal  rill ; 
That  flowers  in  tears  of  balm  distill  ; 
Through  his  loved  groves  that  breezes  sigh, 
And  oaks,  in  deeper  groan  reply ; 
And  rivers  teach  their  rushing  wave 
To  murmur  dirges  round  his  grave. —  Walter  Scott. 

A  GRAVE  had,  meanwhile,  been  dug  by  some  of  the 
troopers  on  the  bluff,  just  at  the  edge  of  the  woods.  The 
body  of  poor  de  Bonueville  had  been  carefully  laid  in  the 
rude  coffin,  and  all  was  ready  for  the  burial.  The  evening 
was  fast  changing  into  night ;  the  horses  stood  saddled  ; 
the  troopers  were  standing  about,  and  everything  was  ready 
for  the  march,  but  still  there  came  a  pause — a  pause  which 
all  seemed  to  understand,  and  which  each  dreaded  to  have 
broken — Jack  more  than  all. 

It  was  the  desolate,  sorrow-stricken,  grief-laden  mourn  r 
in  the  cabin  who  was  in  the  thoughts  of  all — even  the  two 
friendly  Indians  seemed  to  feel  for  her,  while  the  two  pris 
oners  stood  aloof,  their  heads  down  and  a  shamed  look  in 
their  savage  faces.  Any  show  of  triumph  at  that  moment 
214 


THE   BURIAL   AND   DEPARTURE.  215 

would  have  brought  down  the  tomahawks  on  their  heads. 
At  last,  Jack  softly  to  Waggoner : 

"  Captain,  I  swear  to  you  I'd  sooner  march  to  the  Indian 
torture  than  do  it,  but  it  must  be ! "  Then,  going  into  the 
cabin,  where  Marie  sat  leaning  on  the  rude,  massive  table, 
her  position  unchanged,  and  her  eyes  swoollen  with  much 
weeping,  he  said,  tenderly : 

"  Marie,  all  is  now  ready.  Wont  you  strive  hard  to  con 
trol  yourself?  I'm  not  much  used  to  such  trying  scenes, 
or  to  giving  consolation ;  but  if  you'd  like  it,  Marie,  I 
would — attempt  to  read  the  service  for  you." 

"  Oh,  Edward,  Edward  !  "  feelingly  exclaimed  the  deso 
late  mourner,  "  if  you  only  would !  'Twould  be  such  a 
comfort — such  a  comfort." 

"  Jennie,  go  before  with  the  light,"  solemnly  spoke  Jack. 
"  Marie,  give  me  your  prayer  book,  with  the  place  open, 
and  now  lean  upon  my  arm.  I'll  do  it." 

The  two  passed  out  and  on  towards  the  sombre  woods, 
where  were- the  grave  and  the  coffin.  They  were  followed 
by  Jennie  and  her  mother,  then  by  Waggoner  and  his 
troopers.  All  stood  around  the  open  grave.  At  sight  of 
it,  Marie's  hard  schooling  was  almost  in  vain.  Jack  felt 
her  arm  tremble  in  his  like  an  aspen.  Her  frame  seemed 
convulsed,  and  it  needed  of  her  a  strong  effort  to  keep  from 
falling;  but  the  effort  was  made,  and  tearless  she  bent  over 
the  grave,  into  which  all  that  was  mortal  of  her  father  was 
carefully  lowered  by  two  of  the  troopers. 

Jack  then,  by  the  dim  light  of  the  candle,  slowly  and 
solemnly — but  at  times  with  broken  and  trembling  accents 
— read  out  the  beautiful  and  impressive  service  for  the 
dead.  It  was  a  most  peculiar  and  touching  scene.  It  can 
easier  be  imagined  than  described. 

At  last  all  was  over.  Marie  had  gone  through  it  nobly 
heroically,  until  she  heard  the  first,  hard  clod  falling  rudely 
npon  the  coffin  Ud.  She  then  uttered  a  low  wail,  more  like 


216  OLD    FORT    T>UQrF,s:CE. 

a  moan  of  pain,  which  was  followed  by  sobs  thnt  seemed  tfl 
convulse  her  whole  person.  Even  the  rude  troopers  were 
moved  to  tears.  Jack  hurried  her  away  as  soon  as  possi 
ble,  and  mounted  her  directly  on  her  horse.  He  rightly 
thought  that  motion,  change  of  scene,  and  the  require 
ments  of  a  night  journey,  would  be  the  best  present  medi 
cine  for  her  wounded  and  sore-stricken  heart ;  time  alone 
could  bring  healing. 

The  cabin — of  late  the  scene  of  so  much  stirring  action — • 
having  been  securely  closed,  and  all  of  Marie's  effects  having 
been  carefully  lodged  in  the  loft  till  a  more  propitious  sea 
son,  the  whole  cavalcade  took  up  its  melancholy  march, 
the  four  Indians  in  front ;  then  half  the  "  troop ; "  then 
Jennie  and  her  mother,  followed  by  Marie,  with  Jack  walk 
ing  at  the  horse's  head  and  holding  the  bridle,  and  the 
other  troopers  bringing  up  the  rear. 

No  use  to  ford  and  reford  the  river.  The  direct  course 
lay  on  the  cabin  side,  past  the  mouth  of  Turtle  Creek  (the 
Tulpewi  Sipu  of  the  Delawares);  thence  along  the  "nar 
rows  "  for  a  couple  of  miles  or  so,  to  the  mouth  of  what  is 
now  called  "  Crooked  Run."  Thus  far  no  obstruction, 
except  what  the  gloom  of  the  forest  and  the  natural  diffi 
culties  of  a  night  march  along  an  unbroken  path,  might 
offer.  It  may  be  imagined  that  the  progress  was  slow,  and 
the  journey  a  doleful  and  dismal  one. 

Up  the  dark,  narroAV  valley  of  Crooked  Run  they  turned, 
and  soon  fell  in  with  an  old  Indian  trail,  which  led  pretty 
directly  towards  "  Brush  Creek,"  where  lay  Braddock's 
advance  army  of  twelve  hundred  picked  men.  The  Indian 
prisoners  gave  no  trouble  whatever.  They  trudged  along 
in  front,  in  dogged,  sullen  silence,  making  no  attempt  at 
escape.  About  midnight,  the  party  stopped  under  a  par 
ticularly  dense  and  dark  wood  until  the  guides  could 
recover  the  lost  trail.  After  the  many  excitements  of  the 
day,  all  were  wo/ry ;  some  of  the  troopers  even  nodded  IB 


THE   BURIAL  AND   DEPARTURE.  217 

the  saddle,  while  others  dismounted  and  stretched  them 
selves  under  the  trees. 

After  a  quarter  of  an  hour's  search,  the  guides  return 
ing,  the  word  for  advance  was  given,  when,  all  at  once,  th$ 
two  prisoners  and  the  Half-King's  pet  rifle  were  missed. 
The  thongs  which  tied  their  hands  were  found  by  the  lat 
ter,  who,  with  the  guide,  immediately  plunged  into  the 
forest.  It  was  full  an  hour  before  they  quietly  rejoined  tho 
party  and  resumed  the  march.  At  Scarooyaddy's  belt, 
Jack's  quick  eye  observed  a  fresh  scalp  attached.  The 
other  Indian — he  who  had  stolen  the  rifle — escaped  in  the 
darkness. 

"  Why,  how  now,  Chief!  "  said  Jack,  in  low  tones ;  "  you 
wont  go  back  to  Braddock  without  the  elegant  rifle  he 
presented  you  with  ?  " 

" '  The  Black"  Rifle '  not  good  to  his  brother,"  angrily 
answered  Scarooyaddy.  "  Why  you  no  let  me  kill  him  at 
the  cabin  ?  He  very  bad  Indian — very  much  rascal.  He 
try  hard  to  kill  both  us ;  then  when  you  have  him,  you  no 
kill  him  f  Me  never  understand  the  '  pale  face.' " 

"  But  I  see,"  said  Jack,  glancing  at  his  companion's 
belt,  "  that  you  sent  one  of  the  scoundrels  to  the  happy 
hunting  grounds." 

"  Ugh,"  answered  the  Chief,  in  great  disgust,  "  he  wrong 
one.  My  gun  gone.  Byrne  by,  may  be,  I  be  killed  with 
my  own  bullet.  I  soon  come  'cross  this  fellow,"  pointing 
to  the  scalp,  "squatting  behind  a  bush  like  a  rabbit.  He 
make  big  jumps  and  try  for  my  tomahawk,  but  I  no  let 
him  have  it — not  tfarf-a-way — no.  Shawnee  all  over  rascal 
—much  fight." 

"Oh,  well,  Chief,  the  'scalp  bounty*  will  buy  you 
another  gun." 

"  Me  no  want  any  more  but  that.  It  make  little  bit 
noise,  but  it  kill  very  big — almost  as  good  as  the '  The  Black 
Rifle.'" 


218  OLD   FORT    DUQUE3NE. 

The  route  new  lay  along  the  uplands.  The  party  had 
scarce  defiled  from  the  close  valley  of  the  run  out  into  the 
open,  and  were  crossing  a  little  moonlit  hillside,  when  the 
eharp  crack  of  a  rifle  was  heard  from  the  edge  of  the  woods 
behind  them,  and  instantly  after,  the  pinge  of  a  bullet,  which 
•whistled  past  Jack's  breast  and  buried  itself  in  the  loose 
fleshy  part  of  the  neck  of  Marie's  horse.  The  beast  shied 
and  reared  but  was  soon  quieted  down. 

The  report  had  scarcely  died  away,  when  the  two 
Indiana,  taking  diverging  courses,  bounded  back  into  the 
woods. 

"  Marie,"  said  Jack,  as  soon  as  the  party  had  gained  the 
first  shelter,  "I  wager  that  bullet  was  meant  for  me. 
'Twas  from  Scarooyaddy's  own  rifle.  I  can  tell  its  vicious 
bark  among  a  thousand.  I  must  have  choked  that  big  red 
skin  more  than  he  can  forget  or  forgive.  Did  you  see  how 
the  Half-King  sprang  for  that  noise  ?  'Twas  to  him  like 
the  call  of  his  squaw." 

"  Edward,"  anxiously  exclaimed  Marie,  trembling  and 
nervous  from  the  many  shocks  she  had  lately  gone  through, 
"  this  is  a  dreadful,  dreadful  life !  It  cannot  be  that  it  is 
to  your  liking,  with  all  its  alarms  and  surprises  and 
encounters." 

"I  don't  know  about  that,  Marie.  This  back-woods  life 
certainly  has  its  charms  and  its  pleasing  excitements.  You 
know  that,  even  as  a  boy,  I  almost  lived  in  the  woods  and 
under  the  free  air  of  heaven.  The  feeling  grows  with 
years.  'Pears  to  me  I  can't  breathe  a  deep,  full  breath  in  the 
city.  The  airs  and  steamy  odors  of  the  sun-baked  street 
stifle  and  oppress  me.  The  wigs  and  ruffles  and  pumps 
and  starch  ings  and  airs  of  the  quality  vex  and  anger  me.  1 
pine  for  the  wild  woods  and  their  sequestered  retreats. 
Nature  is  ever  fresh  and  ever  true — she  never  deceives  or 
betrays  you.  She's  sometimes  rough,  but  she's  always 
honest  and  k'udly.  No,  no,  Marie;  the  thronged  city 


THE   BURIAL   AND   DEPARTURE. 

may  do  for  lawyers,  doctors,  preachers,  and  pelf-gatherers, 
but  not  for  me." 

"  But,  Edward,  you  surely  can't  love  this  life  of  blood, 
and  violence,  and  incessant  peril.  /  have  lived  much  in 
the  woods  too — more  than  most  of  my  sex,  and  love  them 
dearly.  You  know  it ;  but  I  love  better,  peace  and  quiet, 
and  a  heart  free  from  bitterness  to  any." 

"  Well,  Marie,  /  was  of  that  mind  once,  and  still 
have  dreams  of  a  peaceful  time  when  all  bloody  strife 
and  fierce  excitement  shall  be  over,  but  you  know  I've 
had  grievous  trials ;  have  been  stripped  of  all  I  held 
dear  in  the  world,  and  turned  out  into  the  wilderness 
with  nothing  but  injuries  to  avenge  and  memories  to 
forget.  There  may  yet  come  a  time — God  speedily  grant 
it — when  the  gall  and  hatred  and  bitterness  which  have 
made  me  what  I  am,  shall  give  way  to  softer  feelings 
and  more  quiet  and  peaceful  scenes.  I  feel,  Marie,  as 
if  a  great  change  had  already  come  over  me,  and  it's  still 
going  on;  may  be — " 

But  just  here  the  sudden  appearance  of  the  Half-King 
put  a  stop  to  further  conversation.  Holding  up  his  beloved 
rifle,  he  said : 

" Shawnee  very  much  crazy.  He  no  go  when  he  can  go; 
now  he  die  when  he  no  want  to  die.  I  told  you,  my 
brother,  that  Scarooyaddy's  own  lead  might  kill  him." 

"  But  you  ain't  killed,"  said  Jack.  "  'Twas  me  the  rascal 
wanted.  He  couldn't  forget  the  loving  hug  I  gave  him  in 
the  loft.  Where  did  you  turn  him  up,  Chief,  and " — in 
lower  tones — "  where's  his  hair  ?  " 

"Me  no  touch  him.  The  Tusoarora  chase  him  over  big 
tree  trunk,  knock  hLn  cold  with  hatchet,  and  pull  his 
scalp  before  me  come.  All  the  same,  though.  Here 
Scarooyaddy's  gun.  You  see,  now,  Captain,  that  Groat 
Spirit  want  both  Shawnee.  He  no  want  you  and  me ;  not 
just  now," 


220 


OLD    FORT    DUQUESNE. 


Poor  fellow.  He  only  reasoned  according  to  his  color 
and  habits.  He  little  thought  that  that  very  evening  a 
tragedy  had  been  enacted  on  Braddock's  march  which 
would  touch  him  to  the  very  core.  But  we  must  not 
anticipate. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

TJfEY  COME  ON   BRADDOCK'S  ARMY. 

Within  a  ken  our  army  lies ; 

Upon  mine  honour,  all  too  confident 

To  give  admittance  to  a  thought  of  fear. 

Our  battle  is  more  full  of  names  than  yours, 

Our  men  more  perfect  in  the  use  of  anna, 

Our  armour  all  as  strong;  our  cause  the  best. 

Henry  the  Fourth. 

THE  march  was  now  resumed,  and  continued  without 
further  incident  until  after  midnight,  when  all  at  once,  as 
the  party  surmounted  a  rising  ground,  the  Tuscarora  guide 
came  to  a  sudden  halt,  and  pointed  to  a  piece  of  woods 
just  below  him,  where  smouldering  fires  and  sundry 
columns  of  smoke  rising  lazily  among  the  trees  denoted  a 
large  encampment. 

"  Tis  Braddock's  army  at  last,"  exclaimed  Jack.  "  Wag 
goner,  as  you  know  the  countersign,  you'd  better  take  the 
lend.  Those  scary  pickets  have  an  ugly  way  of  firing  off 
hand.  Everything's  an  Indian  to  them.  I  was  out  the  other 
evening  to  hunt  some  hickory  for  a  new  ramrod,  and  on 
passing  the  outer  line  of  sentries,  was  challenged  by  a  '  Wha 
gaes  tha'  from  a  stupid,  lowlander  Scot,  and,  notwithstand 
ing  I  gave  the  word,  he  fired  his  piece,  yelled  '  Injun,'  and 
made  a  vicious  lunge  at  me  with  his  bayonet." 

The  party,  Waggoner  many  steps  in  the  front,  now  cau 
tiously  advanced  over  a  glassy  glade,  and  entered  an  open 
Wo  's  of  white  oak,  having  very  little  undergrowth. 

221 


222  OLD    FORT    DUQUESXE. 

Suddenly,  and  apparently  from  right  under  "Waggoner*! 
feet,  came  out  of  the  silence  the  click  of  a  gun  lock  and 
the  ringing  voice : 

"Who  goes  there?" 

"  A  friend,  with  the  countersign." 

"  Advance,  friend,  and  give  the  countersign." 

'' '  Conestoga ; '  and  where  have  we  struck  the  camp,  Ser- 
goaut  Dobson?" 

"At  the  very  head,  Captain.  There's  the  'light  horse* 
vidette  in  that  clump  of  laurel.  We  were  just  about  to 
relieve  the  pickets." 

The  party  now  passed  the  line  of  sentinels  who  were 
posted  outside  the  fires,  and  got  into  the  cleared  paths 
which  connected  the  various  sergeants,  pickets  and  flank 
ing  parties. 

Whatever  could  be  said  of  Braddock's  carelessness  and 
neglect  in  other  respects,  certainly  every  precaution  which 
prudence  or  experience  could  suggest,  was  taken  to  pre 
vent  a  night  surprise  or  attack.  Turn  where  one  might, 
a  sentinel,  of  which  a  close  chain  went  around  the  whole 
encampment,  confronted  him.  In  the  rear  of  these  were 
pickets  and  flanking  parties  of  ten  and  twenty  men  each. 
At  the  very  head  and  rear  were  posted  light-horse  videttes. 
The  long  line  of  artillery,  baggage-wagons,  tents,  etc.,  was 
drawn  up,  as  compactly  as  possible,  in  the  twelve-foot-wide 
road  cut  by  the  engineers  and  carpenter  corps  right  through 
the  forest. 

The  whole  party,  headed  by  the  sergeant  with  a  torch, 
now  turned  into  and  down  this  rude  road,  in  the  camp'a 
centre.  The  sergeants,  the  subaltern's  parties,  and  the 
detachment  of  sailors  from  Admiral  Keppel's  fleet,  and 
then  the  tents  of  the  Grenadiers,  were  passed  one  after  the 
other.  Then  came  the  long  line  of  artillery,  with  the  tum 
brils,  caissons,  ammunition  wagons,  and  a  single  line  of 
tents,  facing  outward  on  either  side. 


THEY   COME   ON    BRADDOCK'a   ARMY.  22S 

Near  the  very  centre  of  the  whole  camp,  the  silent  and 
ghostly  procession  came  to  a  halt  before  a  little  semicir 
cular  clearing,  where  were  posted,  first  the  General's  guard ; 
back  of  it  Braddock's  tent,  and  behind  both  again,  a  detach 
ment  of  light  horse,  acting  as  "  body-guard."  In  the  road 
beyond  continued  the  line  of  wagons,  rear-guard,  etc. 

After  some  little  punctilio  and  ceremony,  Waggoner's 
men  were  dismissed  to  their  own  place  for  the  night,  while 
the  others  drew  up  near  the  guard,  waiting  to  know  the 
pleasure  of  Braddock. 

The  old  General,  anxious  for  Waggoner's  report  concern 
ing  the  fords,  had  only  thrown  himself  in  undress  upon  his 
camp-couch,  and  when  he  heard  that  the  Virginian's  troop 
was  accompanied  by  Jack,  Scarooyaddy  and  three  females, 
one  of  them  a  lady  of  beauty  and  refinement,  he  was 
greatly  interested  and  hastened  out  in  person.  As  he 
passed  Dobson,  he  said  in  low  tones : 

"  Has  any  body  yet  told  Scarooyaddy  the  sad  news, 
Sergeant  ?  " 

"No,  General;  I  thought  that  had  better  come  from 
headquarters." 

"  You  did,  did  you  !  S'death  !  Haven't  we  enough  con 
founded  worry  and  trouble  of  our  own  without  this  added  ? 
Well,  sir,  go  take  him  with  you  and  tell  him  at  once — 
or  stay!  I'd  better  arrange  it,"  adding  to  himself  in 
low  tones,  "  'twas  a  d — d  awkward  blunder.  If  it  had 
been  made  by  the  stupid  militia  of  the  country,  'twouldn't 
have  bt^en  so  bad;  but,  by  my  own  veterans — gad,  its 
horrible ! " 

Braddock  then  courteously  saluted  Marie  and  the  other 
females ;  accosted  Waggoner  and  Jack ;  heard  from  them  a 
very  hurried  explanation  of  matters,  and  sent  an  orderly 
to  have  some  of  his  officers  give  up  their  tent  to  the  three 
women  for  the  night,  meanwhile  telling  all  to  dismount 
right  there.  He  then  went  up  to  Scarooyaddy,  shook  him 


224 

very  warmly  by  the  hand,  and   taking  him  aside,  said 
feelingly : 

"The  Half-King  has  done  well — very  well.  He's  a 
great  war  chief,  and  his  words  are  always  as  wise  as  hia 
deeds  are  brave.  He  deserves  our  full  confidence.  It 
grieves  my  heart  to  have  very,  very  bad  news  for  him. 
May  the  Great  Spirit  help  him  to  bear  it." 

The  Chief  darted  a  sudden,  questioning  look  at  the  Cen 
tral,  then  raised  himself  to  his  full  stature  and  with  great 
dignity  made  answer : 

"  Scarooyaddy  is  a  man — an  old  chief  of  over  fifty  snows 
and  thirty  battles.  He  waits  the  great  General's  message. 
Good  news  can  keep,  but  bad  news  must  go  straight,"  look 
ing  inquiringly  and  searchingly  at  Braddock. 

"  You  say  true,  Chief,  and  I  know  well  your  courage ; 
but  'tis  cruel  hard  to  tell  you  that  your  brave  son  has  been 
accidentally  shot  this  evening." 

At  the  word  a  shudder  went  over  the  old  Indian's  frame. 
His  face  fell,  his  mouth  worked  convulsively,  but  making 
a  strong  effort,  the  aged  stoic  simply  and  inquiringly  said : 

"  Shot,  and  what  then  ?  " 

"  He  was  shot  by  our  own  men,"  nervously  and  rapidly 
continued  Braddock :  "  was  mistaken  for  a  French-Indian. 
He  was  sorely  wounded,  was — was — " 

"  He's  dead,"  said  the  Chief,  looking  the  General  fairly 
and  squarely  in  the  eye. 

"  Alas,  that  I  must  say  it,  he  is ! "  answered  Braddock, 
dropping  his  eyes  to  the  ground  before  that  calm,  cle.ir 
gaze.  "  The  whole  camp  is  in  grief.  I  weep  for  him.  I've 
done  all  possible  honor  to  so  brave  a  warrior  and  your 
son." 

"  I  would  see  him,"  moaned  the  old  Chief. 

"  I'll  send  my  own  aid  with  you  at  once.  He'll  explain 
all.  I  need  not  say  again,  Chief,  how  very  grieved  I  am 
— we  all  are." 


THEY   COME  ON   BRADDOCK's  ARMY.  225 

The  Half-King  bowed  his  head  and  stepped  back  into 
the  deep  shadow  of  a  tree,  leaning  against  its  trunk,  and 
waiting  patiently  until  Captain  Orme,  Braddock's  aid, 
quietly  conducted  him  away. 

This  painful  task  over,  the  General  returned  to  his  tent, 
•where  he  received  his  company  affably  and  courteously, 
being  particularly  gracious  and  gentle  to  Marie,  whose  sad 
story  had  been  told  him  by  Jack. 

Generalissimo  of  all  his  Majesty's  troops  in  North 
America,  and  favorite  of  the  great  Duke  of  Cumberland, 
Major  General  Braddock  was  now  full  sixty  years  of  age, 
over  forty  of  which  were  passed  in  active  military  service 
with  the  famous  "Cold  Stream  Guards."  It  is  difficult. 
within^  the  compass  of  a  few  brief  paragraphs  to  sketch 
his  life  and  character.  It  is  generally  allowed,  even  by 
his  bitterest  enemies,  that  he  was  personally  brave,  honest, 
loyal,  and  well  versed  in  military  matters,  but  a  rigid 
martinet,  and  too  apt  to  rely  on  exact  drill  and  discipline 
exclusively  for  success.  "  Desperate  in  his  fortunes,  brutal 
in  his  behavior,  obstinate  in  his  sentiments,"  writes  Walpole, 
"*  he  was  still  intrepid  and  capable."  Mr.  Shirley,  his  own 
military  secretary,  in  a  confidential  letter  written  while  far 
on  this  march  to  Governor  Morris  of  Pennsylvania,  says, 
*'  We  have  a  General  most  judiciously  chosen  for  being 
•disqualified  for  the  service  he  is  in,  in  almost  every  respect- 
He  may  be  brave  for  aught  I  know  and  he  is  honest  in 
pecuniary  matters." 

In  private  life,  it  must  be  confessed,  Braddock  was,  or 
lather  had  been,  dissolute  and  reckless,  keeping  the  low 
aud  disreputable  company  of  London  actors ;  given  to  the 
debaucheries  of  his  day  and  class — the  bottle  and  the 
gsming  table. 

Franklin,  that  keen  observer  of  human   nature,  pro 
nounced  him  a  brave  man  and  a  good  officer,  but  arrogant, 
having  too  much  self-confidence,  too  high  an  opinion  of 
15 


226  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 

regular  troops,  and  too  mean  a  one  of  both  Indians  and 
Americans.  The  old  philosopher,  when  hearing  Brad- 
duck's  account  of  what  was  to  be  done  after  Duquesue 
was  taken,  told  him  that  the  only  fear  he  had,  was  from 
Indian  ambuscades  and  from  the  stretch  of  his  attenuated 
]ine  of  march,  nearly  four  miles  long,  which  would  be  ex 
posed  to  flank  attacks  and  liable  to  be  cut  like  a  thread 
into  several  pieces.  Braddock  smiled  at  Franklin's 
ignorance,  and  replied,  "  These  savages  may,  indeed,  be  a 
foimidable  enemy  to  your  raw  American  militia,  but  upon 
the  king's  regular  and  disciplined  troops,  sir,  it  is  im 
possible  they  should  make  any  impression." 

What  singular  fatuity.  It  was  this  very  raw  militia 
spoken  of  and  treated  so  contemptuously  by  hirn^  that 
eaved  his  army  from  being  totally  annihilated,  and  him 
self  from  being  killed  and  scalped  in  the  battle  approach 
ing,  while  it  was  the  "king's  regular  and  disciplined  troops" 
which  afterwards  became  utterly  and  shamefully  panic- 
stricken,  firing  their  pieces  in  the  air  or  at  their  own 
companions,  and,  when  the  day  was  thus  lost,  fleeing,  aa 
Washington  expressed  it,  "  like  sheep  before  the  hounds." 

The  Indian  opinion  of  him  was  given  by  Scaroo- 
yaddy  himself  to  Governor  Morris  and  the  Pennsylvania 
Assembly  three  mouths  after  the  defeat,  which  he  attri 
buted  to  pride  and  ignorance.  "  He  is  now  dead,"  said  the 
Half-King,  "  but  he  was  a  bad  man  when  alive :  he  looked 
upon  us  as  dogs,  and  would  never  hear  what  we  said  to 
him  ;  and  that's  the  reason  why  a  great  many  of  our 
warriors  left  him,  and  would  not  be  under  his  command." 

There  are  numerous  incidents  told  of  Braddock  before 
his  arrival  on  our  shores.  It  is  pretty  certain,  for  instance, 
that  he  had  once  made  a  most  unfeeling  speech  and  a 
cruel  pun  when  he  heard  of  the  sad  death  of  his  beautiful 
hut  unfortunate  sister  Fanny,  who  committed  suicide 
under  most  distressing  circumstances ;  that  he  was  mean 


IflKY    COME    ON    BRADDOCK's   ARMY.  227 

and  base  enough  to  live  on  the  infamous  wages  of  a 
notorious  Mrs.  Upton,  in  whose  eyes  he  had  found  favor. 
(See  Appendix  P.)  He  was  known  to  be  so  needy  that  in 
one  of  his  duels — this  time  with  a  Col.  Gumley — his  op 
ponent,  on  coming  on  the  ground,  tossed  him  his  purse, 
saying,  "Braddock,  you're  a  poor  dog;  there,  take  my 
purse,  if  you  kill  ine,  you'll  have  to  run  away,  and  then 
you'll  not  have  a  shilling  to  support  you;"  and  finally, 
that  he  spent  the  last  evening  in  London,  prior  to  hia 
departure  for  America,  in  the  company  of  that  frail  actress, 
Miss  Bellamy,  then  living  as  the  reputed  wife  of  a  Mr. 
Calcraft,  whom  Braddock  afterward  made  his  executor. 
It  is  little  wonder  that  the  witty  and  sarcastic  Walpola 
called  him  a  "  very  Iroquois  in  disposition." 

But  these  were  matters  of  the  past.  All  authorities,  for 
eign  and  provincial,  unite  in  stating  that  since  his  arrival 
on  our  shores,  the  General  had  conducted  himself  with 
honesty,  dignity  and  diligence,  using  his  utmost  energies" 
to  push  matters  forward — and  this  under  the  most  vexa> 
tious  and  disheartening  difficulties — and  being  exceedingly 
anxious  to  further  the  king's  service.  Had  he  been  suc 
cessful,  as  everybody  expected  he  would  have  been,  it  ia 
probable  we  would  have  heard  little  of  him  but  praises. 
•'  Nothing  is  so  successful  as  success."  (See  Appendix  Q.) 

The  worst  that  could  be  said  of  Braddock  since  his  so 
journ  in  America,  was  that  he  was  impatient,  intolerant, 
and  complaining — scolding  at  everybody  and  finding  fault 
with  everything.  But  then  it  must  also  be  admitted,  ha 
had  much  reason  therefor.  The  delays,  swindles,  and  out 
rageous  impositions  which  he  and  his  army  had  to  submit 
to,  in  the  way  of  horses,  wagons,  provisions,  and  general 
army  supplies,  were  almost  incredible.  The  General's  in 
tercourse,  too,  with  both  Washington  and  Franklin  was 
always  pleasant  and  honorable  to  all  parties ;  and  when 
the  latter  had  raised  .a  large  number  of  wagons  and  teauaa 


228  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 

for  Braddock,  in  Pennsylvania,  by  means  of  a  timely  handbill 

circulated  among  the  Dutch  farmers,  in  which  the  threat  was 
craftily  held  out  that  unless  the  aid  was  granted,  the  fero 
cious  Hussar,  Sir  John  St.  Clair,  would  enter  the  province 
with  a  body  of  horse  and  forcibly  take  what  he  wanted, 
Braddock  expressed  his  thanks  to  him  in  person,  and  wrote 
to  his  government  that  it  was  "  almost  the  first  instance  of 
integrity,  address  ai^d  ability  that  he  had  met  with  in  all 
these  provinces." 

Duiung  his  march,  Braddock  had  gotten  rid  of  many  of 
his  foolish  and  pompous  European  notions.  He  soon  dis 
covered  that  America  was  a  strange,  unknown  territory  for 
him  and  his  veterans,  and  that  a  western  wilderness,  with 
its  crowded  trees,  dense  thickets,  and  bridgeless  streams, 
Was  a  very  bad  place  for  high  style  or  display.  Thus  he 
Itarted  by  buying  a  tawdry  and  lumbering  travelling 
chariot  from  General  Sharpe,  of  Maryland ;  and  on  the 
10th  of  May,  the  army  was  startled  by  Braddock's  rapid 
txansit,  on  his  way  to  Fort  Cumberland,  sitting  grandly  in 
his  chariot,  with  a  body  of  light-horse  galloping  on  either 
Bide.  Poor,  mistaken  old  man,  he  was  soon  glad  to  come 
down  to  one  sorry,  attenuated  cob,  and  after,  to  a  rude  lit 
ter,  carried  by  a  few  faithful  soldiers. 

Braddock  now  held  a  long  interview  with  both  Jack  and 
Waggoner.  Their  reports  seemed  to  make  considerable 
impression  on  him,  and  he  was  anxious  for  morning  that 
he  might  confirm  his  doubts  and  consult  with  his  officers. 
As  soon  as  the  orderly  reported  the  officers'  tent  ready  for 
the  three  females,  Braddock  arose  and  addressed  himself 
very  gently  to  Marie : 

"  Miss  de  Bonneville,  you  will  excuse  the  rough  quarters 
we  have  to  offer  you,  but  such  as  they  are,  you  are  most 
heartily  welcome.  I  have  heard  from  Captain  Jack  your 
sorrowful  story,  and,  believe  me,  sympathize  with  you 
from  my  very  heart.  These  are  terrible  times  to  all,  but 


THEY    COME    ON   BRADDOCK  S    ARMY. 


229 


especially  to  one  of  your  sex  and  culture.  I  have  trie*;  to 
persuade  Jack  that  it  would  be  better  for  all  three  of  you 
ladies  to  retire  to  Captain  Gist's  plantation,  not  far  from 
here,  rather  than  follow  the  fortunes  of  the  army  and  share 
the  privations  of  the  camp  and  march.  What  think 
your' 

"  I  thank  you,  General.  After  the  terrible  shock  we've 
lately  gone  through,  we  sadly  need  rest  and  quiet,  all  three 
of  us ;  but  still,  if  it  wouldn't  burthen  you,  we — at  least  I 
— would  prefer  staying  with  the  army,  to  running  any  new 
risks  by  the  way.  I  have  other  reasons,"  meaning  her 
father's  grave  and  her  goods  and  portfolios.  "  You  have 
ao  doubt,  whatever,  of  taking  the  fort,  I  presume  ?  " 

Braddock  smiled  scornfully.  "  Never  a  doubt — couldn't 
have  any.  My  veterans  will  scatter  this  French-Indian 
rabble  like  chaff  from  a  threshing-floor.  I  expect  no  more 
than  a  skirmish.  You  are  assuredly  welcome  with  us, 
Miss  de  Bonneville,  while  Lieutenant  Frazier  can  care  for 
his  wife  and  daughter  until  his  cabin  is  reached.  I've 
about  concluded  to  go  by  way  of  the  river  fords — will 
know  to-morrow,  when  General  St.  Clair  reports." 

"Thanks,  General,"  answered  Marie,  her  eyes  filling 
with  tears  at  the  memory  of  that  cabin,  with  its  harrowing 
associations ;  "  and  now  we  beg  leave  to  retire." 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

THE   DEAD   CHIEF — BRADDOCK's  ARMY. 

Thus  far  into  the  bowels  of  the  land 
Have  we  marched  on  without  impediment. 

Richard  the  Third. 

Their  poor  jades 

Lob  down  their  heads,  drooping  the  hides  and  hips, 
And  their  executors,  the  knavish  crows, 
Fly  o'er  them,  all  impatient  for  their  hour. — Ilenry  the  Fifth, 

CAPTAIN  ORME,  having  returned  from  conducting  the 
Half-King,  now  led  the  way  to  his  tent,  just  next  that  of 
Braddock,  and  which  had  been  fitted  up  as  comfortably  as 
possible  for  their  reception.  It  had  been  occupied  by 
Bniddock's  three  aid-de-camps  and  secretary.  A  cold  col 
lation  was  found  upon  the  table,  and  one  of  the  camp 
women — a  Mrs.  McMurtree — was  there  as  attendant.  * 

Captain  Orme  now,  at  Jack's  earnest  request,  led  the 
way  to  a  distant  quarter  of  the  camp,  where  the  seven  In 
dians  that  accompanied  Braddock  were  quartered.  They 
were  all  that  were  left  of  near  fifty  which  had  started  from 
Cumberland.  One  of  these,  Cashuwayon,  or  Captain  New 

*  Shortly  after  the  army  left  Fort  Cumberland,  not  only  were  the 
Indian  squaws  banished  the  camp,  but  all  the  white  women — with  the 
exception  of  two  to  a  company — were  sent  to  Philadelphia.  In  th« 
Pennsylvania  archives  are  published  their  names,  and  the  number  of 
O's  and  Mac's  sufficiently  attest  the  nationality  of  Braddock's  regi 
meiits. 

230 


THE    DEAD   CHIEF — BRADUOCK's   ARMY.  231 

Castle,  was  a  son  of  Queen  Alaquippa ;  another  was  lagrea, 
Scarooyaddy's  son-in-law,  and  two  Mohawks,  Esras  and 
Moses  (the  song),  were  his  wife's  brothers,  so  that  Scaroo 
yaddy's  son  was  among  relatives. 

The  General,  knowing  the  great  importance  attached  by 
the  simple-minded  redmen  to  a  little  ceremony  and  atten 
tion,  and  in  order  to  palliate  and  overcome,  as  much  as 
possible,  the  bad  effects  of  the  stupid  blunder  of  his  grena 
diers,  had  called  this  evening's  encampment  Monecatootha, 
after  the  Half-King ;  had  given  the  Indians  a  tent  in  which 
to  deposit  and  lament  over  the  body;  had  stationed  a 
guard  before  it,  and  issued  orders  for  a  military  funeral 
early  the  next  morning,  and  a  burial  with  all  the  honors 
of  war. 

As  Captains  Jack  and  Orme  entered  the  tent,  they  found 
the  Half-King  bent  in  tearless  sorrow  over  the  dead  body  of 
his  son — an  active  and  gallant  young  chief,  whom  the  father 
had  left  in  the  flush  of  youth  and  vigor  of  health.  A  num 
ber  of  Indian  ceremonies  had  already  been  performed  over 
the  body,  and  even  then  all  were  engaged  in  a  rude  chant 
of  lamentation ;  lagrea  beating  the  Tay-wa-egun  or  one- 
headed  drum — made  by  adjusting  a  deer's  hide  to  one  end 
of  the  section  of  a  hollow  tree — while  the  others  recounted 
the  virtues  and  gallant  exploits  of  the  deceased. 

Jack  quietly  went  up  to  his  old  friend,  took  his  hand, 
and  whispered  a  few  words  of  comfort  and  condolence. 
The  old  Chief,  grieved  as  he  was,  seemed  pleased  with  this 
visit,  as  he  evidently  was  with  the  attentions  and  honors 
bestowed  by  Braddock.  With  great  pride  and  animation 
he  spoke  of  his  son's  bravery,  and  then  narrated  how  the 
accident  happened.  Several  loiterers  in  the  very  rear  of 
the  army  had  been  killed  and  scalped  by  a  party  of  French 
Indians.  The  General  had  sent  back  his  grenadier,  before 
whom  the  hostile  Indians  had  fled.  They  were  discovered 
again  soon  after  i-  front,  by  hiss^u  and  the  other  Indiana, 


232  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 

who  were  about  attacking  them,  when  they  themselvei 
were  fired  on  by  a  party  of  Braddock's  out-rangers,  who 
mistook  them  for  the  enemy,  notwithstanding  they  made 
the  agreed  countersign,  which  was  holding  up  a  bough  and 
grounding  their  arms.  By  this  fire  the  young  chief  was 
killed ;  but  the  simple-minded  father  seemed  so  gratified 
with  the  orders  Braddock  had  given  on  the  occasion,  that 
the  stupidity  of  the  blunder  was  somewhat  excused  and 
forgiven. 

Orme  and  Jack  soon  retired  to  quarters  offered  by  the 
former,  and  the  whole  camp  was  now  again  wrapped  in 
silence.  It  was  just  the  time  for  deepest  slumber.  Within 
a  narrow  circuit  in  those  dark,  wild  woods,  lay  over  twelve 
hundred  picked  men,  who  slept  profoundly,  totally  uncon 
scious  of  the  sad  fate  and  disgrace  which  shortly  awaited 
them.  Foot-sore  and  travel-stained,  they  had  lain  them 
down  that  night  in  unusually  bright  spirits.  Two  more 
days  and  their  toil  would  be  over;  the  battle  would 
be  fought  and  won ;  the  fort  assaulted  and  taken,  and  then 
a  rest  from  all  their  label's  and  privations. 

The  extended  circuit  of  sentries  kept  their  ceaseless  vigils 
among  the  trees  and  bushes.  The  little  knots  of  flankers 
waked  and  slept  by  turn.  The  long  line  of  wagons — the 
horses  hobbled  about  them — stretched  down  the  narrow  road 
overarched  by  huge  oaks,  and  elms,  and  hickories,  and  all 
was  profound  stillness. 

Most  impressive  and  solemn  is  an  encampment  of  soldiers 
just  on  the  eve  of  a  bloody  battle.  It  is  well  that  the 
future  lies  hid  from  man.  Could  these  unrecking  slumber- 
ers  have  foreseen  the  carnage  that  would  shortly  ensue — • 
that  of  the  fourteen  hundred  and  sixty  men,  officers  and 
privates,  who  went  into  the  battle,  four  hundred  and  fifty- 
six  would  be  slain  outright ;  that  four  hundred  and  twenty- 
one  would  be  more  or  less  grievously  wounded,  and  that 
the  rest  -wruld  be  a  routed,  disgraced,  and  panic-strickeir 


THE   DEAD   CHIEF — BRADDOCK's   ARMY.  233 

mob  of  fugitives,  what  a  scene  of  horror  and  commotion 
there  would  have  been  ! 

It  is  not  our  aim  or  purpose  to  give  a  detailed  account 
of  Braddock's  command,  and  its  tedious,  toilsome  march, 
first  to  Cumberland,  and  thence  to  this  spot ;  but  now  would 
geem  a  favorable  time  for  grouping  together  a  few  salient 
facts  which  may  serve  to  give  readers  some  comprehensive 
idea  of  the  size,  character  and  composition  of  this  ill-fated 
army. 

Its  nucleus,  in  the  shape  of  the  44th  Regiment,  Colonel 
Sir  Peter  Halket,  and  the  48th,  Colonel  Thomas  Dunbar 
had  arrived  from  Cork,  Ireland,  disembarking  at  Alexan 
dria  about  the  middle  of  March,  1755.  Neither  regiment 
numbered  five  hundred,  and  these  were  made  up  of  Irish, 
Scotch  and  English,  drafted  from  different  commands,  and 
a  large  proportion  of  base  material.  After  reaching  this 
country,  these  two  regiments  were  recruited  by  raw,  pro 
vincial  levies  up  to  an  effective  of  seven  hundred  each, 
and,  after  innumerable  and  vexatious  delays  and  au 
immense  labor,  were  joined  by  independent  companies 
from  New  York,  Virginia.  Maryland,  South  and  North 
Carolina. 

The  trouble,  expense,  and  delay  in  getting  the  army 
supplied  with  wagons,  provisions,  horses,  etc.,  was  almost 
incredible  and  entirely  disheartening,  and  it  was  not  until 
about  the  8th  of  June  that  the  heterogeneous  little  com 
mand  was  ready  to  march  from  Cumberland.  Had  not 
Dr.  Benjamin  Franklin  raised  a  large  force  of  wagons  and 
pa.k-horses  in  Pennsylvania,  by  the  timely  publication 
before  alluded  to,  in  which  he  frightened  the  German 
population  by  a  threat  that  if  they  were  not  immediately 
furnished,  the  Hussar,  Sir  John  St.  Clair,  would  overrun 
the  province  and  impress  them,  the  army  would  not  have 
been  able  to  march  at  all.  The  whole  force  was  divided 
ir4*)  two  brigades  under  Colouels  Halket  and  Dunbar, 


£34  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 

numbering  about  2150  effectives,  not  counting  the 
usual  train  of  non-militants — women,  vragoners,  and 
hangers-on. 

The  progress  of  this  ill-assorted  command  was  painfully 
slow,  five  miles  being  considered  an  excellent  day's  march, 
while  most  frequently  it  did  not  reach  half  that.  Bridges 
bad  to  be  built,  roads  to  be  cut  the  whole  way,  deep  and 
miry  marshes  to  be  traversed,  and  steep  and  rugged  h:i1s 
to  be  surmounted.  The  route  chosen  was  by  no  means  trie 
shortest  or  the  easiest  one.  The  advice  of  Nemacolin, 
the  Indian  guide,  was  too  closely  followed.  Frequently 
morasses  had  to  be  waded  through  and  savage  hills  to  be 
elimbed,  the  heavy  artillery  being  let  down  by  the  sailors 
with  block  and  tackle.  The  number  of  wagons  and  pack- 
horses  was  strung  out  in  a  line  of  over  four  miles  in  length, 
which  was  constantly  made  the  object  of  attack,  though 
nappily  by  small  parties. 

In  addition  to  the  natural  difficulties  of  the  route,  were 
superadded  such  as  arose  from  crazy  wagons,  wretched 
and  inadequate  food,  most  miserable  horses,  and  a  general 
sickness  and  discontent  among  the  soldiers  and  officers. 
It  is  little  wonder,  then,  that  this  army  had  been  ten  days 
in  reaching  the  Little  Meadows,  but  twenty-four  miles 
from  Cumberland. 

This  fatal  tardiness  would  never  do,  and  reductions  of 
baggage  were  constantly  occurring.  Even  the  officers 
were  compelled  to  give  up  their  horses  to  the  service, 
Washington,  Braddock's  aid-de-camp,  offering  his  best 
charger,  and  reducing  his  luggage  to  one  poor  half-filled 
portmanteau. 

At  the  Little  Meadows  a  council  of  war  was  held,  the 
result  of  which  was  that  "Washington's  advice  was  taken, 
and  the  army  was  divided.  It  was  daily  more  evident  if 
Fort  Duquesne  was  to  be  reached  before  it  was  reinforced; 
»nd  in  time  to  allow  of  subsequent  military  opera* 


THE   DEAD  CHIEF — ERADDOCK's  ARMY.  235 

Huns,  that  a  -ight  fighting  division  must  push  forward 
more  rapidly,  and  so  about  twelve  hundred  of  the 
best  and  most  reliable  troops  were  sifted  out,  together 
with  a  select  train  of  artillery  and  pack-horses  for  the 
provisions. 

Colonel  Dunbar,  with  all  the  heavy  wagons,  useless 
artillery  and  other  impedimenta,  was  left  behind  with  the 
worst  and  most  unreliable  troops,  to  make  his  way  as  best 
he  might.  Even  with  these  aids  to  a  more  rapid  progress, 
it  was  not  until  the  21st  of  June  that  Braddock  entered 
Pennsylvania,  and  not  until  the  30th,  that  he  crossed  the 
Yough,  near  where  Connellsville  now  stands,  and  now,  here 
was  the  7th  of  July,  and  Turtle  Creek  yet  remained  to  be 
passed,  with  a  strong  probability  of  being  obliged  to  turn 
oack  on  their  course  and  seek  a  crossing  of  the  Monon- 
gahela. 

Had  the  General  waited  here  for  Dunbar's  army,  as  was 
strongly  urged  by  Sir  John  St.  Clair,  the  Quartermaster- 
General,  it  would  probably  have  been  the  middle  of  August 
before  the  fort  would  have  been  reached,  and  the  whole 
army  would  either  have  starved  or  fallen  into  the  hands 
of  the  enemy,  as  numbers  would  have  availed  little.  "  Dun- 
bar,  the  Tardy,"  as  he  was  called,  had  lost  so  many  of  his 
wretched  draught  horses  by  sickness  and  starvation,  and 
by  constant  stealings,  that  he  could  only  move  half  his 
wagons  at  a  time.  After  one  day's  march,  the  miserable 
and  worn-out  old  jades  were  sent  back  to  bring  up  the 
remainder,  and  then  two  days  more  before  a  fresh  start 
could  be  made. 

Now,  add  to  all  this  a  bad  state  of  feeling  among  the 
troops,  caused  by  an  insufficiency  of  provisions ;  no  allow 
ance  of  spirits ;  nothing  but  water  to  drink,  and  that 
often  bad  and  unwholesome,  and  a  general  disheartenment 
among  the  foreign  troops.  Disputes  and  jealousies  were 
common  too  among  the  officers,  arid  Braddock  was  not 


236 


OLD    FORT    DUQUESNE. 


even  on  speaking  terms  with  his  two  brigade  coramant'era 
Even  the  robust  constitution  of  Major  Washington  haa 
given  \vay  under  this  state  of  things,  and  he  had  been 
travelling  for  ten  days  in  the  rear  in  a  covered  wagon,  and 
was  but  just  now  returning.  He  had  exacted  a  promise 
from  Braddock  that  on  no  account  should  a  battle  be 
fought  without  him  being  present. 


CHAPTER   XXXVI. 

TnE  BURIAL — GENERAL  DANIEL  MORGAN. 

Tut,  tut !  good  enough  to  toss :  food  for  powder,  food  for  powder : 
frey'll  fill  a  pit  as  well  as  better. — Falstaff. 

THE  morning  of  the  7th  dawned  auspiciously.  At  the 
early  beat  of  the  reveille  the  whole  army  was  astir.  The 
quiet  and  deaduess  of  the  night  before  was  changed  into 
most  intense  activity.  From  one  end  of  the  long  line  to 
the  other,  every  one  was  busy.  The  wagoners  and  batmen 
made  ready  their  horses;  the  fires  were  kindled  and 
preparation  for  breakfast  commenced,  and  all  the  various 
Bteps  of  preparing  for  the  march  were  soon  completed. 

After  the  morning  meal  was  over,  the  first  thing  in  order 
was  the  burial  of  the  young  chief  so  unfortunately  killed 
the  night  before.  •  The  whole  command  was  ordered  to  pay 
respect.  Soon  the  Half- King,  accompanied  by  the  other 
Indians,  issued  from  the  tent,  followed  by  a  special  guard 
detailed  to  carry  the  body.  This  funeral  cortege  was 
accompanied  by  many  of  the  principal  officers  and  the 
chief  band  playing  the  Dead  March. 

A  grave  had  been  dug  on  a  slight  eminence  near  by  and 
at  the  foot  of  a  clump  of  chestnuts,  just  then  in  full  blos- 
eom.  The  general  officers,  out  of  respect  to  the  Half-King, 
gathered  around.  The  body  was  lowered  -to  one  of  the 
Indians'  own  wild  chants;  the  chaplain  read  the  service  for 
the  dead,  and  when  all  was  over,  there  was  platoon  firing 
over  the  grave.  These  little  honors  and  attentions  were  so 

237 


238  OLD    FORT    DUQUESXE. 

agreeable  to  the  Indians  that  they  became  more  attached 
to  the  service  than  before. 

Short  march  this  day.  The  army  soon  came  to  a  halt 
on  the  very  brow  of  a  precipitous  hill  overlooking  Brush 
Creek.  Sir  John  St.  Clair  was  out  with  his  engineers,  hia 
guides  and  his  light-horse,  but  the  reports  were  unfavor 
able — the  country  utterly  impracticable  for  artillery  and 
the  wagon  train — and  so  it  was  decided  in  the  afternoon  to 
abandon  this  direction  altogether ;  to  turn  sharp  about  and 
make  for  the  Monongahela  fords.  The  rest  was  much 
needed  by  both  man  and  beast.  Some  of  the  officers  man 
aged  to  get  up  horse  races,  and  the  soldiers  gathered 
about  in  knots  and  laughed  and  chatted,  or  grumbled  and 
complained,  as  suited  their  various  moods  and  grievances. 

The  late  stirring  adventures  of  Jack  and  the  Half-King 
becoming  by  this  time  much  discussed,  they  were  the  ob 
jects  of  great  interest  to  the  rank  and  file,  and  of  much 
attention  among  the  officers.  The  latter  numbered  many 
who  rose  to  distinction  and  held  important  commands  in 
after  years.  Not  to  speak  of  General  Washington,  who  iu 
this  district  had  learned  the  rudiments  of  war,  there  was 
General  Gage,  the  well-known  British  commander  at  Bos 
ton  and  Bunker  Hill ;  General  Horatio  Gates,  if  not  so 
much  as  General  Arnold  the  hero,  at  least  the  one  who 
received  the  credit  at  Saratoga  when  General  Burgoyne's 
army  was  so  badly  defeated  and  cut  up ;  General  Gladwyn, 
whose  gallant  and  obstinate  defence  of  Detroit  against 
Pontiac  and  his  leaguering  hosts,  is  so  well  known  ;  Gen 
era]  Adan  Stephen,  General  Lewis,  and  others,  besides 
British  officers  who  attained  high  rank  in  England.  (Sea 
Appendix  R.) 

There  was  -still  another  officer  of  distinction  in  our 
revolutionary  war  whose  acquaintance  Jack  made  this  day 
in  a  rather  singular  way.  He  was  sauntering  away  in  th« 
rear  among  the  wagons  and  wagoners — generally  a  rude 


THE   BURIAL GENERAL   DANIEL   MORGAN.          239 

clownish,  boisterous  and  profane  set  of  vagabonds — "  lewd 
fellows  of  the  baser  sort" — who  had  gathered  to  this  ex 
pedition  from  Virginia,  Maryland,  but  especially  Penn 
sylvania. 

Among  them  was  a  rough,  uncouth  and  powerful  fellow, 
baid  to  have  been  a  Virginia  overseer.  He  had  happened 
to  incur  the  anger  of  one  of  the  lower  British  officers,  who, 
"  dressed  in  a  little  brief  authority,"  were  accustomed  to  be 
arrogant  and  overbearing  to  all  provincials.  Reprimand 
ing  the  teamster  for  his  tardiness,  he  probably  received  an 
insolent  reply,  whereupon  the  officer  struck  him  with  his 
sword.  The  sturdy  wagoner,  not  being  able  to  brook  this 
insult  in  presence  of  his  jeering  companions,  whipped  out 
his  lash,  fell  upon  the  officer,  and  gave  him  a  thorough 
and  severe  drubbing. 

So  great  an  insult,  coming  especially  from  an  American 
teamster  and  a  hireling  at  that,  could  not  go  unpunished 
in  such  a  severely-disciplined  army  as  Braddock's,  in  wnich 
any  officer  or  soldier  found  gaming  received  three  hundred 
lashes;  any  soldier  found  drunk,  two  hundred,  and  any 
soldier,  or  army  follower  found  stealing  provisions  was  ad 
judged  to  death  ;  and  so  for  this  rank  offence  the  poor 
wagoner  was  condemned  to  receive  five  hundred  lashes, 
and  as  Jack  was  passing,  the  execution  of  the  sentence  was 
about  being  concluded.  Kneeling  before,  and  his  hands 
tied  around  a  sapling,  the  cat  came  down  with  terrible 
severity  on  the  poor  fellow's  bare  shoulders.  He  squirmed, 
and  writhed,  and  his  flesh  quivered  under  the  stinging, 
cutting  lash  until,  when  about  four  hundred  and  fifty  strokes 
had  been  conscientiously  administered,  the  sufferer  fainted, 
and  fell  into  the  arms  of  the  indignant  Jack,  who  had 
him  taken  to  his  friend  Gist's  tent,  dressed  his  wounds 
and  carefully  nursed  and  tended  him. 

Gen.  Daniel  Morgan,  who  commanded  the  celebrated 
rifle  corps  of  th°  revolution,  who  proved  such  a  powerful 


240  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 

aid  at  Saratoga,  and  who  caused  Tarleton  to  fly  at  the  Cow« 
pens,  used  afterwards  to  say  that  "old  King  George"  yet 
owed  him  fifty  lashes.  It  was  some  little  easement  to  him 
to  know  that  the  very  officer  whom  he  had  thrashed,  after 
wards  acknowledged  himself  in  the  wrong  and  made  the 
amende  honorable.  It  is  said  that  in  the  battle  of  Brad- 
dock's  field,  Morgan  was  shot  in  the  neck,  the  ball  passing 
through  his  mouth,  taking  out  some  of  his  teeth  by  the 
way.  This  is  probable,  as  some  of  the  wagoners  in  the 
front  were  the  very  first  to  receive  the  enemy's  fire,  and 
Buffered  severely.  Those  in  the  rear,  however,  behaved 
shamefully.  At  the  very  first  suspicion  of  defeat,  these 
fellows,  to  a  man,  abandoned  their  charges,  cut  the  traces 
Df  their  best  horses,  rode  off  at  hot  speed,  and  made  such 
astonishing  time  that  at  five  the  next  morning  the  first  one 
rushed — his  eyes  distended  with  fright — into  Dunbar'a 
camp,  with  the  dreadful  tidings  that  the  whole  army  was 
completely  beaten,  destroyed,  annihilated,  and  that  he  was 
the  sole  survivor.  (See  Appendix  S.) 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

MABIE,  AND   MAJOR  WASniNOTOH. 

Bee  I  what  a  grace  was  seated  on  his  brow ! 
An  eye  like  Mars,  to  threaten  and  command; 
A  combination  and  a  form  indeed, 
Where  every  god  did  seem  to  set  his  seal, 
To  give  the  world  assurance  of  a  man. — Hamlet. 

A  rarer  spirit  never 
Did  steer  humanity. — Antony  and  Cleopatra. 

BY  reason  of  the  attenuated  line  of  his  army,  Braddoofc 
was  compelled  to  take  even  greater  precautions  to  guard 
against  surprises  and  attacks  during  the  march,  than  when 
in  camp.  While  the  artillery,  pack-horses,  baggage  and 
the  main  army  were  slowly  and  painfully  worked  along 
the  rude,  narrow  road  hastily  constructed  by  the  engineers 
right  through  the  forest,  numerous  videttes  and  flanking 
parties  were  thrown  out  on  either  side,  and  a  surprise  was 
thus  rendered  almost  impossible. 

On  the  8th  of  July,  at  the  beating  of  the  "  assembly,"  both 
soldiers  and  officers  turned  out  with  unusual  alacrity.  The 
tedious  and  harassing  march  was  nearly  over,  and,  leav 
ing  the  head  waters  of  Turtle  Creek,  the  army  turned  off 
at  right  angles  and  took  the  direct  route  for  the  Monon- 
gahela  fords. 

Jack's  usual  place  on  the  march  had  been  with  the  In 
dians  and  Captain  Gist,  but  now  he  walked  along  side  of" 
Marie,  who,  mrunted  on  an  easy-going  palfrey  and  in  com- 
16  «  211 


242  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 

pany  with  Jennie  and  Mrs.  Frazier,  had  been  requested  bj 
.  Braddock  to  keep  close  with  him. 

Near  the  present  town  of  Stewartsville,  Pa.,  the  head  of 
the  army,  preceded  by  the  ringing  blows  of  the  axe  and 
the  crash  of  falling  trees,  soon  plunged  into  the  sequestered 
valley  of  Long  Run,  and  over  its  lonely  swales  and  hill 
sides  ;  through  its  dark  thickets  and  coverts,  and  among 
its  luxuriant  forests  of  oak  and  maple,  the  baggage  and 
artillery  jolted  and  rumbled  along,  while  the  pack-horses, 
mounted  officers,  and  straggling  foot-soldiers  picked  and 
plodded  their  tedious  way,  startling  the  wild  bird  or  beast 
almost  at  every  step. 

General  Braddock  was  very  considerate  for  Miss  de  Bon- 
neville's  comfort,  and  frequently  sent  Bishop,  his  body-ser 
vant,  to  consult  her  wishes,  and  ever  and  anon  rode  by  her 
side  and  engaged  in  conversation  with  her  and  her  pro 
tector.  At  noon  the  whole  force  took  dinner  at  a  spot 
near  Avhere  Sampson's  Mills  now  stand,  and  then  made  a 
brief  march  to  a  lovely  and  sheltered  nook,  midway  be 
tween  Long  and  Crooked  Runs,  having  made  during  the 
day  no  less  than  eight  miles — the  best  and  most  cheerful 
march  since  leaving  Cumberland. 

The  route  between  these  two  runs  lay  along  a  most 
singular  plateau  or  table-land,  having  an  average  width 
of  about  a  hundred  rods,  now  known  as  "  the  white-oak 
flats." 

The  buoyant  soldiers  pitched  their  tents  with  joy,  and 
the  whole  camp  was  soon  alive  with  preparations  for  the 
night.  A  bountiful  fountain — to  this  day  known  as  "  Brad- 
dock's  spring" — here  poured  forth  its  refreshing  waters. 
After  the  evening  meal,  the  entire  grove  was  vocal  with 
song  and  laughter,  and  little  knots  of  soldiers  and  officers, 
by  this  or  that  stately  oak  or  mossy  trunk,  discussed  the 
eventful  morrow. 

By   fjener?1    order,  the  arms  were  now  burnished  up; 


MARIE,    AND    MAJOR    WASHINGTON.  243 

fresh  loads  put  into  the  muskets;  all  the  clothes  and  accou 
trements  brushed  aud  scoured,  and  every  preparation  made 
for  a  grand  military  display  which  should  strike  a  whole 
some  dread  into  the  hearts  of  the  foe.  But  few  of  the 
British  regulars  who  did  not  think  that  an  easy  victory 
would  crown  their  arms,  and  that  a  sharp,  brief  skirmish 
would  open  an  easy  way  to  the  possession  of  the  fort  which 
had  for  so  long  been  the  almost  sole  subject  of  their  thoughts 
and  conversation.  The  provincial  troops  were  not  so  san 
guine,  and  gravely  shook  their  heads  at  British  boasts. 
They  had  more  experience  of  Indian  stratagems  and 
bravery,  and  felt  that  success  would  depend  on  fighting 
and  whipping  them  in  their  own  way. 

A  council  of  war  had  been  held  early  in  the  evening,  at 
which  were  present  all  the  field  officers — Colonels  Halket, 
Gage,  and  Burton,  and  Majors  Sir  John  St.  Clair  and 
Sparks.  At  this  last  official  meet,  Sir  John,  with  that  pas 
sionate  hastiness  which  so  distinguished  him,  vehemently 
urged  the  sending  forward  a  detachment  to  invest  the  fort 
that  very  night.  But  it  being  argued  that  the  force  so 
dispatched  would  not  be  within  proper  supporting  distance, 
and  that  such  a  move  would  be  more  judicious  from  the 
next  evening's  encampment,  the  gruff  and  tempestuous  old 
Quarter  master-General  was  fain  to  acquiesce. 

Sir  Peter  Halket,  next  in  command  to  Braddock,  and 
more  cautious  and  diffident  of  success  than  he,  now  frankly 
expressed  his  forebodings,  and  with  great  solemnity  enjoined 
on  Braddock — with  whom  he  was  scarcely  on  speaking 
terms — to  take  every  possible  precaution  against  ambushes 
and  surprises :  pressing  him  most  earnestly  to  thoroughly 
examine  every  foot  of  the  way,  and  to  beat  up  the  forest 
as  Highland  hunters  beat  up  the  mountain  coverts  for 
game. 

To  fhii  timely  advice,  the  confident  General,  still  posses 
sing  that  > very ?en ing  confidence  in  the  discipline  of  hig 


244  OLD    FORT    DUQUESXE. 

own  veterans,  and  that  fatal  contempt  for  his  Canadian  and 
Indian  foes,  listened  with  impatience,  and  the  wary  old 
veteran  retired  in  sadness  from  his  presence.  Sir  Peter 
was  a  fine  old  Scotch  soldier  and  high-born  gentleman  of 
the  ancient  regime.  A  nobleman  by  birth,  he  had  married 
the  Lady  Amelia  Stewart,  daughter  of  the  Earl  of  Moray, 
two  of  his  sous  being  then  with  him.  He  was  a  brave, 
loyal,  sagacious  and  honorable  gentleman  and  an  experi 
enced  officer,  who  had  risen  by  merit  alone ;  and  had  Brad- 
dock  trusted  more  in  him  and  in  Washington — the  two  who 
generally  agreed  touching  all  military  movements — it 
would  have  saved  him  from  defeat  as  well  as  disgrace. 

At  the  famous  battle  of  Preston  Pans,  which  occurred 
only  ten  years  before  between  Sir  John  Cope  and  the 
Highland  clans  and  Jacobitish  adherents  of  Charles  Ed 
ward,  the  Pretender,  Sir  Peter,  then  lieutenant-colonel, 
had  been  captured  and  released  on  parole  by  Charles.  This 
coming  to  the  ears  of  the  Duke  of  Cumberland,  he  ordered 
that  officer  to  disregard  his  parole  and  rejoin  his  regiment, 
which  Sir  Peter  stoutly  and  resolutely  refused  to  do,  saying 
that  "His  Royal  Highness  was  master  of  his  commission 
but  not  of  his  honor."  The  king  approved  this  proper  re- 
Bolve  of  an  honorable  soldier  and  he  retained  his  rank.  It 
is  sad  to  think  of  the  fate  which  awaited  so  good  a  man. 
He  and  one  of  his  sons  now  lie  buried  near  the  bloody  field 
where  they  so  bravely  courted  death  rather  than  dis- 
nonor. 

It  was  now  agreed  that  the  "narrows"  lying  between 
the  army  and  Frazier's — being  very  impracticable  for  ar 
tillery  and  affording  for  several  miles  admirable  facilities 
and  opportunities  for  attack  and  ambush— should  be  avoided 
by  crossing  the  Monougahela  by  the  fords  already  tested 
by  Captain  Waggoner ;  and  so  Lieutenant  Gage  was  or 
dered  to  march  before  daybreak,  with  two  companies  of 
grenadiers,  160  of  the  rani  ind  file,  with  Gates'  independ' 


MARIE,    AND   MAJOR   WASHINGTON.  245 

fint  company,  all  preceded  with  proper  guides,  etc.,  to  pass 
the  two  fords  and  take  post  after  the  second  crossing  tc 
secure  the  passage.  At  four  o'clock  he  was  to  be  followed 
by  Sir  John  St.  Clair,  with  250  men,  including  the  engi 
neers  and  a  company  of  carpenters,  to  make  roads  for  the 
artillery  and  baggage,  which  was  to  march  with  the  balance 
of  the  army  at  five. 

This  important  business  having  been  transacted,  the 
General,  being  in  a  particularly  gay  and  hopeful  mood, 
turned  aside  to  the  tent  of  his  aids — now  occupied  by  Ma 
rie  and  Frazier's  wife  and  daughter — where  he  found  Cap 
tain  Jack  and  his  own  chief  guide,  Captain  Christopher 
Gist,  whose  happy  escape  with  Fairfax,  Queen  Alaquippa's 
son,  we  have  already  noted. 

Marie  was  still  overwhelmed  with  her  great  grief,  but 
occasionally  roused  herself  to  take  interest  in  passing  move 
ments  and  even  some  part  in  the  conversation.  Jack  had 
remained  with  her  as  much  as  possible  the  last  two  days, 
striving  ever  to 'divert  her  mind  from  its  absorbing  borrow ; 
making  no  allusion  whatever  to  the  sad  events  at  I'razier's 
cabin,  but  constantly  surrounding  her  with  those  little  acts 
of  attention  and  thoughtful  regard  for  her  comiort,  which 
betrayed-  -  far  more  than  could  any  words  of  his — the  ho 
mage  of  his  heart  and  his  deep-felt  sympathy  in  her  afflic 
tion. 

These  little  civilities  of  his  did  not  pass  without  notice 
from  Marie.  When  did  they  ever  in  like  relations  ?  It  is 
the  thousand  nameless  little  proffers  of  gallantry  and  con 
siderate  attention,  where  self  is  forgotten  and  where  every 
want  of  the  loved  one  is  anticipated,  which  constitute  the 
grace  of  young  love  and  give  to  it  its  chief  zest  and  flavor. 
Happy  are  those  who,  in  after  life,  can  keep  up  the  devo 
tion  of  their  days  of  courtship  and  its  varied  mode^  of  ex 
pression.  It  is  rare,  but  it  is  beautiful,  to  see  the  imsband 
nfsbty  just  aa  fervent  and  constant  in  his  ddicai* 


246  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 

tions  as  the  impetuous  lover  of  twenty ;  and  yet  this  is  the 
test  and  token  of  the  truest  and  purest  love — such  as  cornea 
not  from  the  blood,  but  from  the  soul. 

While  Braddock  was  closely  questioning  Jack  and  Gist 
as  to  their  late  adventures,  and  anxiously  speculating  as  to 
the  fate  of  Talbot — who,  despite  his  eccentricities,  was  a 
general  favorite  in  camp  for  his  pluck  and  good  humor — 
the  step  of  a  horse  was  heard  outside,  and  immediately 
after,  the  flap  of  the  tent  was  unceremoniously  lifted,  and  a 
tall  and  stately  form  entered.  The  stranger  started  back 
in  great  and  unaffected  surprise  when  he  saw  who  were 
the  occupants  of  the  tent,  and  making  a  hurried  but  cour 
teous  bow,  was  about  to  retire  in  much  confusion,  when  all 
three  gentlemen  started  to  their  feet,  and  rushed  towards 
mm,  Braddock  catching  and  pressing  the  young  officer's 
nand  and  exclaiming : 

"  Why,  Major,  this  is  indeed  a  surprise  and  a  pleasure. 
When,  and  how  did  you  rejoin  the  army  ?  and,  my  poor 
fellow,  how  thin  and  weak  you  do  look!  I  trust,  deal- 
Major,  you've  not  over-tasked  your  strength.  I  expressly 
charged  our  Doctor  Walker  not  to  let  you  put  foot  on 
ground  till  you  were  able  to  stand  the  march ;  but  what 
the  deuce  am  I  thinking  of?  Plague  take  it!  if  this  back 
woods  life  don't  make  one  forget  all  his  manners.  Allow 
me,  Miss  de  Bonneville  " — leading  forward  the  stately  and 
still  wondering  young  officer — "  to  present  to  you  one  of 
my  military  family — my  trusted  aid,  Major  Washington. 
S'death !  I  don't  much  wonder  at  his  surprise  at  finding  hia 
quarters  so  charmingly  occupied." 

Marie,  her  fine,  earnest  face  suffused  with  blushes  but 
with  a  look  of  evident  pleasure  in  her  beaming  eyes,  arose 
and  answered  his  dignified  bow  with  a  graceful  courtesy, 
remarking : 

"I  ask  of  Major  Washington  a  thousand  pardons,  and 


MARIE,    AND   MAJOR   WASHINGTON.  247 

am  sorry  if  my  temporary  possession  of  his  tent  will  put  him 
to  any  inconvenience." 

"  I  beg,  Miss  de  Bonneville,'that  you'll  not  mention  it," 
replied  Washington.  "  I  only  regret  that  in  wishing  to  sur 
prise  my  tent-mates,  Orme  and  Morris,  I  did  not  inform 
myself  of  your  presence.  Please  make  yourself  perfectly 
at  home  in  it." 

"  And  now,  old  felloAV,"  said  Braddock,  again  affection 
ately  pressing  Washington's  hand,  "  here  are  your  friends 
Gist  and  Jack,  and  most  eager  to  greet  you,"  while  both 
of  these  admirers  of  his  warmly  took  each  a  hand,  and 
welcomed  him  back  to  the  army. 

"  Why,  Jack,  and  Gist,  too !  "  said  Washington.  "  How 
rejoiced  I  am  to  see  you  again  in  the  flesh,  and  with  whole 
ecalps !  Orme's  last  letter  told  me  you  had  gone  on  a  dan 
gerous  scout,  and  were  probably  either  killed  or  captured. 
Nothing  has  ever  chafed  me  so  much  as  being  stretched 
impotently  on  my  back,  while  I  might  have  been  as  actively 
if  not  so  usefully  employed.  I  was  afraid,  General,  you 
would  forget  your  promise  to  me  not  to  give  battle  without 
letting  me  know,  and  so  I  came  on  in  a  wagon  with  the 
last  provision  convoy  from  Dunbar's  camp." 

"Yes,"  said  Braddock,  "and  you  look  at  this  moment 
fitter  for  a  hospital  couch  than  for  a  march — still  less  a 
battle.  I  must  remand  you  to  the  care  of  Dr.  Craik  and 
Bishop,  now  that  Alston  your  own  servant  is  also  sick." 

"General,"  laughingly  replied  Washington,  "I  would 
have  been  much  worse  had  it  not  been  for  the  James's  pills 
you  kindly  forwarded  me.  They  acted  on  my  system  like 
magic,  restoring  tone,  and  giving  me  at  the  same  time 
strength  and  spirits." 

All  this  time  Washington  could  not  refrain  from  turninc 

O  O 

occasional  glances,  in  which  surprise  and  curiosity  were 
plainly  but  not  offensively  manifest,  towards  Marie,  as  if 
he  were  Drying  to  account  for  the  strange  presence  of  so 


248  OLD    FORT    DUQUESNE. 

beautiful  and  elegant  a  lady.  The  General  observing 
attempted  to  rally  him,  laughingly  remarking,  "I  see, 
Major,  by  the  looks  you  throw  toward  Miss  de  Bonneville, 
that  our  guest  and  her  visit  here  are  a  mystery  to  you." 

"Why,  yes,  General,  I  must  confess,  saving  the  fair 
lady's  presence,  that  she  puzzles  me  no  little.  Such  fruit 
does  not  grow  on  the  trees  hereabouts.  She  has  not  come 
with  our  army  from  the  East,  that  I  know ;  and  where  she 
could  spiing  from  in  the  West  passes  my  poor  comprehen 
sion.  I  trust  the  lady,"  bowing  gracefully  toward  Marie, 
"  does  not  take  it  amiss,  or  think  me  uncivil  because  the 
General  has — too  frankly,  perhaps — uttered  a  truth." 

"  Not  at  all,  Major.  I  have,  then,  much  the  advantage  of 
you,"  modestly  replied  Marie,  "for  I  have  often  heard  of 
Colonel  Washington,  and,  I  must  add,  nothing  to  his  hurt. 
Jenny  Frazier  and  her  mother  are  never  tired  of  sounding 
his  praises.  I've  heard,  also,  the  French  officers  of  the 
fort  speak  favorably  of  you,  although  they  do  feel  some 
what  sorely  concerning  the  death — or  as  they  style  it — the 
assassination  of  Monsieur  Jumonville,  whom  they  allege 
was  an  ambassador." 

"Why,  this  increases  the  mystery,"  gravely  answered 
Washington.  "French  officers  of  the  fort  and  yours  a 
French  name ;  and  pray,  what  does  Miss  de  Bonneville 
think  of  the  Jumonville  case.  I  trust  nothing  to  the  dis 
paragement  of  my  honor  ?  " 

"  Not  in  the  least,  Major.  Had  I  done  so,  be  assured 
I  would  not  have  mentioned  the  matter.  I  know  the 
whole  case,  and  acquit  you  of  everything  but  what  was 
to  the  highest  degree  honorable  and  patriotic.  Sieur  de 
Beaujeu  takes  your  part  strongly,  but  Captain  Dumas 
either  doubts  or  affects  to  doubt." 

"  Major,"  interrupted  Braddock,  "  I  fear  you'll  have  to 
give  up  the  conundrum,  unless  Jack  will  come  to  your 
assistance.  'Tis  rarely  a  scout  brings  such  rare  booty— 


MARIE.  AND  MAJOR  WASHINGTON.  249 

and  allow  me  to  add — beauty,  as  Jack's  late  one.  Not 
content  with  bearding  the  Parlez-vous  in  their  very  den, 
giving  their  Indian  allies  several  severe  fights,  and  nearly 
drowning  the  old  Scarooyaddy,  he  surprises  us  by  bringing 
back  this  gentle  lady,  whom  we  hope  soon  to  install  as 
mistress  of  Fort  Duquesne  and  interpreter  extrac  rdinary 
between  us  and  the  French.  Rest  you  here,  while  [  make 
out  my  orders  for  the  morrow  and  tell  Orme  and  M'  m& 
of  your  arrival. 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 

MAJOR   WASHINGTON,  AND  CAPTAIN   JACK. 

Not  with  the  bold  array 
Of  armies  dread  came  they, 

Proud  conquest  on. 
Through  a  long  warfare  rude 
With  patient  hardihood, 
By  toil  and  strife  and  blood, 

The  soil  was  won. — Z.  C.  Cist. 

WASHINGTON  soon  heard  the  brief  but  connected 
history  of  late  events,  and  the  reports  concerning  the  fort, 
Indian  allies,  etc.,  and  passed  some  time  in  conversation 
with  Marie.  At  last,  rising,  he  courteously  bade  her  good 
night  and — Gist  wishing  to  retire  to  his  quarters — engaged 
Jack  for  a  round  about  the  camp. 

"  I  don't  know  how  it  is,  Captain,"  he  said,  as  soon  as 
he  was  fairly  outside,  "but  my  return  to  camp  has  already 
acted  like  a  strong  cordial  on  me.  I  have  been  of  so  little 
use  in  this  expedition,  and  was  so  fearful  that  I  would 
miss  altogether  its  denouement,  that  I  felt  anxious,  nervous, 
depressed.  This  tedious  fever  has  unmanned  me.  For  two 
•weeks  it  was — not  for  a  moment  to  compare  myself  with 
Caesar — '  Give  me  some  drink,  Titinius,  like  a  sick  girl ;' 
but  now  I'm  in  the  saddle  again  and  so  near  stirring 
events,  that  I've  a  new  heart.  By  the  by,  Jack,  that  is  ft 
strange  story  you  tell  me  about  your  late  adventures  and 
the  way  in  which  you  came  upon  old  friends  and  rescued 
them.  Your  amiable  protegee  is  very  beautiful,  and  I  flatten 
250 


MAJOR  WASHINGTON,  AND  CAPTAIN  .  ACK.  251 

myself  I  know  a  fine  woman  and  a  true  lady  when  I  see 
her.  There's  a  part  of  the  story,"  looking  meaningly  at  hia 
companion.  "  that  remains  to  be  told ;  eh,  Captain?" 

"  Not  that  I  am  aware  of,  Major,"  reservedly  answered 
Jack,  with  dignity.  "  Miss  de  Bonneville's  grief  is  too 
recent  and  crushing  not  to  enlist  my  most  heart-felt  sym 
pathies.  Her  poor  father  placed  her  under  my  protection 
for  the  present,  and  my  duty  is  to  endeavor  to  assuage, 
somewhat,  her  great  grief.  I  scarce  know  now,"  as  if  mu 
singly  to  himself,  "  whether  I'm  doing  right  or  wrong  in 
going  back  to  her  father's  grave.  'Tis  a  slow  way  to  make 
ner  forget,  but  she  seems  to  wish  it ;  she  seems  to  wish  it." 

Washington,  respecting  his  companion's  feelings,  made 
ao  answer,  but  linking  his  arm  in  Jack's,  passed  with  him 
along  the  line  of  tents. 

Here  we  may  state,  in  explanation  of  Braddock's  warm 
Hud  affectionate  welcome  of  Washington,  that  nothing  in  that 
aufortunate  General's  American  career  reads  more  pleas 
antly  to  oiie  of  this  country,  or  does  more  credit  to  both  his 
head  and  heart,  than  the  just  and  ever  warm  appreciation 
held  of  Washington's  character  and  abilities.  He  seemed  to 
single  out  both  Franklin  and  Washington  as  objects  of  his 
special  praise  and  approval.  On  his  arrival  in  the  country 
he  found  the  latter,  who  had  been  the  esteemed  and  hon 
ored  colonel  of  the  Virginia  troops,  and  who  was  exceed 
ingly  anxious  to  still  further  serve  his  king  and  country 
in  the  field,  at  Mount  Vernon.  This  unwelcome  retire 
ment  was  compelled  by  King  George's  order,  denying  all 
rank  to  the  Colonial  military  in  comparison  with  those 
given  by  himself.  To  obviate  this  difficulty,  Braddock 
sent  him  a  very  friendly  letter,  not  only  offering  him  the 
position  of  aid-de-camp,  but  requesting  him  to  suit  his  own 
convenience  as  to  time,  and  to  consider  himself  at  liberty, 
in  all  events,  to  come  or  go,  as  best  suited  hia  business 
or  inclinations. 


252  OLD   FORT    DTJQUESNE. 

Thia  position,  Washington,  desirous  not  only  of  serving 
his  country,  but  of  taking  lessons  in  the  military  art 
from  so  experienced  a  teacher,  hastened  gladly  to  accept. 
During  the  whole  march,  it  is  certain  that  Braddock  not 
only  frequently  consulted  Washington,  but  acted  on  his 
advice,  even  "when  it  was  somewhat  at  variance  with  his 
own  convictions.  In  one  of  Washington's  letters,  in  which 
he  states  how  Braddock  condemned  the  Colonial  authori 
ties  and  contractors  for  their  supineness  and  lack  of  honor 
and  honesty,  he  adds :  "  We  have  frequent  disputes  on  this 
head,  which  are  maintained  with  warmth  on  both  sides — 
especially  on  his,  as  he  is  incapable  of  arguing  without  it, 
or  giving  up  any  point  he  asserts,  be  it  ever  so  incompati 
ble  with  reason  or  common  sense." 

When  Washington  took  sick  on  the  route,  nothing  could 
exceed  the  General's  attention  to  and  solicitude  for  him, 
dispatching  his  own  physician  to  him,  sending  him  the 
pills  he  himself  made  use  of,  detailing  a  guard  to  take  care 
of  him  on  the  road  when  too  ill  to  bear  the  joltings  of  a 
wagon,  keeping  up  a  correspondence  with  him,  and,  finally, 
solemnly  promising  him  that  if  he  would  stay  quietly  in 
the  rear  and  nurse  himself,  he  would  on  no  account  give 
battle  without  having,  if  it  were  possible,  Washington 
present. 

It  is  also  certain  that  Braddock  had  such  a  high  esteem 
for  him  as  a  man,  and  confidence  in  him  as  a  soldier,  that 
it  was  his  intention  to  give  him  a  high  position  in  the 
king's  regular  army.  This  was  distinctly  promised  him  ; 
Governor  Dinwiddie  emphatically  asserts  it.  At  his  death, 
Braddock  expressed  compunctions  at  not  having  mora 
scrupulously  followed  Washington's  advice,  and  singled 
him  out  as  his  nuncupative  legatee,  bequeathing  to  him  his 
favorite  charger  and  his  body-servant  Bishop,  so  well* 
known  in  after  years  as  a  faithful  attendant. 

Washington,  notwithstanding  a  certain  gravity  and  state* 


MAJOR  WASHINGTON,  AND  CAPTAIN  JACK.  253 

liness  which  well  became,  and  seemed  natural  to  the  man, 
an,l  Jack,  notwithstanding  a  certain  reserve  and  sternness, 
which  were  part  of  his  habitual  manner,  were  both  very 
popular  with  the  common  soldiers,  more  especially  with 
the  Colonial  troops,  and  as  both  men  now  passed  under  the 
tiees  and  down  the  long  narrow  line  of  tents,  they  were 
warmly  and  even  affectionately  greeted.  They  stopped  to 
chat  with  this,  and  with  that  group  of  officers  or  men,  and, 
finally,  attracted  by  the  noise  of  loud  laughter  and  merry 
singing,  they  came  to  a  pause  before  a  motley  crowd  of 
)fficers  and  soldiers — foreign  and  provincial — Scotch  and 
Irish — camp-\vomen,  wagoners,  and  what  not. 

It  seemed  as  if  all  the  jovial  and  roysteriug  spirits  of 
the  camp  were  here  assembled,  and  all,  too,  in  a  state  of 
excitement  and  joyfulncss.  From  the  broad  brogue  spokea 
and  sung,  it  was  easy  to  detect  the  Scotch  nationality  of 
most  of  the  group.  They  joked  and  chaffed  and  sang 
together,  as  if  campaigning  in  the  wilderness,  surrounded 
by  Indian  outlyers  and  on  the  very  eve  of  what  might 
prove  a  bloody  and  desperate  struggle,  was  the  merriest 
business  in  the  world. 

It  was  a  strange  and  impressive  scene  in  these  virgin 
forests — vast  solitudes  frequented  only  by  bird  or  savage 
beast  or  the  still  more  savage  Indian.  Beneath  an 
immense  white  oak,  whose  huge  trunk  and  spreading 
branches,  with  their  thick  overhanging  canopy  of  leaves, 
were  lit  up  by  the  nickering  flames  of  the  camp  fire, 
reclined  the  promiscuous  assemblage.  Now  Sergeant  Mac 
Pherson,  noted  throughout  the  whole  army  for  his  fine, 
powerful  voice,  and  for  the  fervor  which  he  generally 
threw  into  the  song,  was  vociferously  called  on  for  "Annie 
Laurie" — that  old  camp  favorite  of  Scotch  soldiers  out  on  a 
campaign.  Nothing  could  exceed  the  peculiar,  startling 
effect,  in  these  solemn  old  forests,  rf  those  Umple  and  touch- 


264  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 

ing  words,  delivered  with  unusual  pathos,  and  iu  a  voice  of 
exceeding  richness : 

JIaxwelton's  braes  are  bonnie, 
"Where  early  fa's  the  dew  ; 
And  'twas  there  that  Annie  Laurie 
Ga'e  me  her  promise  true, 

Ga'e  me  her  promise  true, 

"Which  ne'er  forgot  shall  be; 

And  for  bonnie  Annie  Laurie 

I'd  lee  me  doon  and  dee. 

As  the  Sergeant's  voice  rang  full  and  clear  along  the 
stretch  of  tents,  there  was  a  general  hush ;  all  ears  wero 
attentive ;  all  hearts  were  affected,  and  before  the  touching 
lyric  which  expressed  so  general  a  heart-sentiment  had 
died  away  amid  those  leafy  aisles  and  sombre  shades, 
many  an  eye  was  filled  with  tears. 

Then  followed  on  the  part  of  other  noted  singers,  war 
songs,  love  songs,  and  drinking  songs — Scotch,  Irish  and 
American,  until  at  last  the  cry  arose  to  round  off  with  the 
"  Braddock  Campaign  Song,"  a  jingling  provincial  ballad, 
more  remarkable,  let  us  hope,  for  its  melody  than  for  its 
metre,  but  which,  like  our  own  old  John  Brown  war  song 
of  a  later  date,  was  a  general  favorite  with  the  army : 

To  arras!  to  arms!  my  jolly  grenadiers! 
Hark,  how  the  drums  do  roll  it  along! 
To  horse !  to  horse !  with  valiant  good  cheer, 
We'll  meet  cur  proud  foe  before  it  is  long. 
Let  not  your  courage  fail  you, 

Be  valiant,  stout  and  bold; 
And  it  will  soon  avail  you, 
My  loyal  hearts  of  gold. 

JTuzza  1  my  valiant  countrymen !  again  T  say,  huzza! 
'Tis  nobly  done — the  day's  our  own— huzza,  huzza,  huzza! 

March  on !  march  on !  brave  Braddock  leads  the  foremost ; 

The  battle  is  begun,  as  you  may  fairly  see. 
Stand  firm !  be  bold  I  and  it  will  soon  be  over; 

We'll  v>on  gafi  the  field  from  our  proud  enemy. 


MAJOR  WASHINGTON,  AND  CAPTAIN  JACK.  255 

A  squadron  now  appears,  my  boys : 

If  that  they  do  but  stand. 
Boys  never  fear  I  be  sure  you  mind 

The  word  of  stern  command. 

Huzza  !  my  valiant  countrymen  !  again  I  say,  huzza! 
'Tis  nobly  done — the  day's  our  own — huzza,  huzza,  huzza  I 

See  how  I  see  how !  they  break  and  fly  before  us : 

See  how  they're  scattered  over  all  the  plain. 
Now,  now ! — now,  now  1  our  country  will  adore  us, 
In  peace  and  in  triumph,  boys,  when  we  return  again. 
Then  laurels  shall  our  glory  crown, 

For  all  our  actions  told ! 
The  hills  shall  echo  all  around, 

My  loyal  hearts  of  gold. 

ITuzza!  my  valiant  countrymen,  again  I  say  huzza! 
'Tis  nobly  done,  the  day's  our  own — huzza,  huzza,  huzza  I 

Many  a  camp  doggerel,  with  no  more  pretensions  to 
poetic  or  literary  merit  than  the  above,  but  yet  having  a 
good,  ringing  chorus,  and  its  defects  hidden  under  a  dra 
matic  action  and  in  a  stirring  melody,  has  excited  a  mar 
tial  spirit  and  urged  men  to  mighty  deeds  of  war.  So,  in 
the  present  instance,  the  effect  was  simply  prodigious.  The 
chorus,  "  Huzza,  my  valiant  countrymen,"  etc.,  was  taken 
up  by  group  after  group  of  soldiers,  until  the  whole  cainp 
rang,  and  the  woods  re-echoed  with  exciting  "huzzas." 
Had  they  gone  into  battle  next  day  with  it  in  their  mouths, 
who  can  tell  but  the  fate  of  the  struggle  would  have  been 
changed  ? 

The  beat  to  quarters  now  came  to  quench  the  excitement, 
and  the  camp  gradually  sank  into  silence  and  slumber. 
The  effect  of  the  song  on  Washington  and  Jack  was  rather 
a  saddening  one.  They  saw  more  plainly,  perhaps,  than 
did  the  poor,  unthinking  soldiers  about,  the  difficulties  no\\ 
immediately  before  them.  Both  of  them  knew  well  the 
character  of  the  French  foe  they  were  about  to  encounter, 
as  also  the  savage  ferocity  and  devilish  ingenuity  of  his 
painted  allies.  Indians  of  different  tribes  had  followed 


£56 


OLD   FORT   DUQUESNK. 


their  march  ever  since  leaving  Fort  Cumberland,  never 
losing  a  chance  to  harass  troops,  run  off  horses  and  cattle, 
and  kill  and  scalp  stragglers ;  and  thus  all  this  enthusiasm 
of  the  army,  begotten  of  the  feeling  that  now  their  weary 
marchings  were  about  to  end,  could  not  altogether  stifit 
Washington's  apprehensions. 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

SIB    PETER   HALKET   SEES    DEATH. 

A  gray-haired  sire,  whose  eye  intent 

"Was  on  the  visioned  future  bent. — Lady  of  the  i,akt 

BEES. — Lochiel!  Lochiel!  beware  of  the  day 

When  the  lowlands  shall  meet  thee  in  battle  array; 
For  dark  and  despairing,  iny  sight  I  may  seal, 
But  man  cannot  cover  what  God  would  reveal. 
'Tis  the  sunset  of  life  gives  the  mystical  lore, 
And  coming  events  cast  their  shadows  before. 

Lochiel's   Warning. — Campbell, 

TAKING  leave  of  Jack,  who  went  to  the  quarters  where 
Scarooyadd.y  and  his  little  band  of  faithful  Indians  had 
also — after  their  own  fashions,  with  their  own  rude  music 
and  dances  and  chantings — been  getting  up  a  like  warlike 
elan,  Washington  slowly  and  musingly  wended  his  way  to 
a  marquee  tent  near  the  middle  of  the  line. 

To  his  request  for  admission,  a  gruff  but  hearty  voice 
answered :  "  Coom  ye  in,"  and  Washington  advanced  to  the 
side  of  a  rude  couch,  on  which  reclined  the  large  and  stal 
wart  form  of  a  noble-looking  old  officer  of  some  seventy 
years.  His  hair  was  plentifully  sprinkled  with  white ;  a 
keen,  gray  eye  sparkled  under  a  bushy,  shaggy  eyebrow, 
while  a  stiff,  white  moustache  gave  the  square,  Scottish 
face  a  stern  and  decidedly  military  look.  He  now  appeared, 
however,  sad  and  weary.  He  had  evidently  been  engaged 
in  writing,  as  paper  and  pen  were  then  lying  on  a  low  camp- 
chest  beside  him. 

17  257 


258  OLD    FORT   DUQUESNE. 

At  sight  of  Washington  he  started  up  quickly,  warmly 
pressed  the  proffered  hand  in  both  his  own,  and  said,  in  a 
strong  Scotch  brogue,  which  grew  broader  in  proportion  as 
lie  was  excited  :  "  Ah,  Geordie,  my  worthy  young  laddie,  I 
heerd  you  were  coom  back  to  camp,  and  would  hae'  ta'eu 
it  amiss  o'  you  if  ye  had  na  ca'd  on  yer  auld  frind." 

"  Thank  you,  Sir  Peter.  I've  been  to  pay  my  respects 
to  the  General  and  called  on  my  way  to  my  tent.  You 
look  jaded,  and  even  haggard." 

"Ise  muckle  reason,  lad,"  replied  Halket,  gloomily. 
"A well,  Major,  ye'll  be  in  at  the  death,  will  ye?  I  honor 
ye  for't,  and  yet  maun  pity  ye.  I  fear  me  we'll  have  a 
bluidy  day  the  morrow." 

"  Why,  Colonel,  have  you  later  tidings  from  the 
enemy?" 

"  Nae,  nae ;  it  is  na  joost  that,  but  Ise  gotten  my  warn 
ing  from  them  who  care  na  to  speak  twist.  l)id  ye  hear, 
Major,  them  limmer  loons  scraughing  and  skirling  a  wee 
bye  since?  and  maist  o'  them  under  ban  and  near  til  their 
death-thraws  ?  'Tis  little  these  daft  callante  .reck  o'  the 
morrow's  bluid." 

"  Why,  Sir  Peter,"  replied  Washington,  in  a  surprised 
tone,  "I  find  you  singularly  depressed  this  evening.  What 
makes  you  augur  so  badly  of  to-morrow  ?  Be  assured,  if 
the  General  will  give  his  army  a  fair  chance,  the  foe  must 
be  badly  beaten." 

"But  he  will  nae,  I  tell  ye!  Coom  nigher,  Major.  Yese 
heerd,  no  doot,  of  the  Gaelic  second  sight — the  Scottish 
taischf  I  ne'er  put  much  stress  on  it,  and  am  na  seer,  and 
yet  I  saw  this  verra  gloaming  that  which  maks  me  doot — a 
rision  of  death  and  bluid — of  battle  and  carnage." 

"  Why,  Sir  Peter,  this  is  positively  wicked  !  You  are 
ill — have  been  over-anxious  of  late !  You  must  drive  away 
these  gloomy  phantasies — the  creatures  of  a  distempered 
mind.  God  docs  not  work  in  that  way,  Colonel  Ilalket." 


SIR   PETER  HALKET. 


SIR    PETER   IIALKET    SEES    DEATH.  259 

"  Bide  a  wee,  bide  a  wee ;  I  dirrna  ask  ye  to  believe, 
Gecrdie,"  solemnly  replied  the  old  nobleman.  "  I  only 
say  what  my  ain  een  saw.  I  tak'  the  warning  to  mysel' 
alone,  an'  tell  nane  but  you — not  e'en  my  puir  bairns.  As 
I  walkit  alane  under  the  oaks  this  night,  a  mist  seemed  tc 
rise  before  my  two  een ;  and  as  I  lookit  and  lookit,  wuu- 
dering  what  culd  it  a'  mean,  the  glamour  brake  up  into 
shaips  and  ghaists,  and,  'tis  thrue  as  that  I  see  ye,  Major,  I 
saw  a  stream  running  thick  vith  bluid,  and  on  its  banks  a 
throng  of  spectres  walkit,  and  one  stuid  there  for  me  and 
one  for  the  bairn  James,  and  baith  were  crossed,  whilk  I 
na  understand.  But  this  I  knaw,  they  were  all  white  with 
shrouds.  Ken  ye  what  that  means,  laddie?  " 

"  Indeed,  I  do  not,  Sir  Peter,"  replied  Washington, 
deeply  affected  by  the  fixed  and  solemn  look  of  the  old 
man.  "  I  put  but  little  faith  in  Scotch  superstitions,  al 
though  the  belief  in  them  is  now  so  common." 

"It  means  death,  Geordie.  If  the  shrouds  be  below  the 
middle,  not  so  soon  ;  but  if  aboon  the  breath,  the  very  next 
day.  All  the  shrouds  I  saw,  Major,  were  high  up  on  Ike 
breast.  Oh,  Ise  sair  distraught,  but  ne'er  fear  ye  but  I'll 
do  my  vhail  duty  the  morrow,  dear  Geordie ;  but  I  tells 
ye  my  weird  is  dreed,  and  so  is  that  of  my  bairn,  James. 
Wha,  alas,  will  pipe  our  coronach  ?  Ye  see  my  will  there, 
and  whm  Ise  dead  and  gone,  ye'll  see  to't,  lad ;  and  nofl 
let's  turn  the  talk."  (See  Appendix  T.) 

Colonel  Halket  now,  with  a  great  effort,  seemed  to  rouse 
himself  out  of  his  gloom,  and  talked  calmly  and  even 
pleasantly  on  various  subjects,  and  on  Washington  rising 
to  go  shortly  after,  he  shook  him  most  affectionately  by  the 
hand,  and  begged  him  to  take  care  of  himself.  As  he  pas 
sed  out  into  the  air,  Sir  Peter  smiled  sadly,  held  up  hia 
warning  finger,  and  simply  said  :  "  Ye'll  remember,  Geor 
die.  the  Scotchman's  taisch.  I  saw  nae  end  of  bluid,  bluid, 
bluid  1 " 


260 


OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 


Washington,  himself  still  weak  and  suffering  from  hia 
prolonged  fever,  was  very  deeply  moved  by  Sir  Peter's 
manner  and  relation.  He  soon  met  Morris  and  Orme,  who 
had  been  out  on  the  hunt  for  him;  but,  try  his  very  best,  he 
could  not  shake  off  his  gloom  ;  and,  on  reaching  his  quar 
ters,  threw  himself  anxious  and  distressed  on  his  couch, 
without  undressing. 

His  slumber  was  fitful  and  disturbed,  and  the  earliest 
streak  of  dawn  found  him  up  and  preparing  for  the  day. 
Parts  of  the  camp  were  even  then  in  motion.  He  witnessed 
the  departure  of  Gage's  advance,  and  then  of  Sir  John  St. 
Glair's  working  party. 

At  six  the  whole  army  had  taken  their  simple  meal,  and 
with  quick  step  and  joyful  hearts,  marched  down  the  val 
ley  of  "  Crooked  Run  "  to  the  Monongahela,  but  two  miles 
distant.  Soon  cheer  after  cheer  went  along  the  ranks  as 
the  river  was  first  sighted.  Those  in  front  broke  into  a 
run,  while  those  behind  pressed  hard  after  them,  and  all 
was  joy  and  tumult  at  the  first  view  of  the  beautiful  Mon- 
ongahela,  which  rolled  its  peaceful  waters  between  hills, 
clad  from  the  river's  margin  to  their  verj  tops,  with  the 
freshest  and  greenest  verdure. 


CHAPTER  XL. 

THE  DELAWARE  QUEEN  ALAQUIPPA. 

With  head  upraised,  and  look  intent 
And  eye  and  ear  attentive  bent  ; 
And  locks  flung  back,  and  lips  apart 
Like  monument  of  Grecian  art; 
In  listening  mood  she  seemed  to  stand, 
The  guardian  Naiad  of  the  strand. 

Scott's  Lady  of  the  Lake. 

JUST  as  the  little  army  emerged  from  the  defile,  a  singU' 
lar  apparition — as  it  looked  to  the  soldiers — met  their  won 
dering  eyes.  On  a  jutting  rock,  some  twenty  feet  higher 
than  their  route,  stood  the  bold  figure  of  a  very  tall  and 
commanding-looking  woman.  Her  coarse,  black  hair  was 
plentifully  streaked  with  gray,  and  fell  down  her  back  in 
great  abundance ;  her  countenance,  though  dark  and 
weather-beaten,  was  yet  comely  and  impressive.  Her  eye 
was  like  the  eagle's  for  fire  and  boldness.  She  had  on  the 
moccasins  and  leggings  of  the  Indian,  but  over  her  should 
ers  was  thrown  an  ample,  flowing  robe  of  fine  cloth,  while 
in  her  outstretched  hand  was  something  like  a  lance,  with 
which  she  would  point  to  the  opposite  shore,  as  if  showing 
to  the  army  the  way  to  honor  and  victory. 

The  commanding  figure  )f  this  strange  being  stood 
strougly  revealed  against  the  sky.  Not  a  word  spake  she 
nor  movement  made  she,  but  as  she  stretched  out  her  long 
wand  or  lance,  as  if  showing  the  route  to  the  enemy,  the 

261 


262  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 

superstitious  soldiers  were  at  first  appalled,  but,  afterwards, 
taking  it  as  a  good  omen,  they  gave  her  cheer  after  cheer — 
the  first  English  cheer  that  those  hills  had  ever  echoed. 

Thus  she  proudly  stood,  until  the  crowd  of  officers,  led 
by  Braddock  and  including  Washington,  Marie,  Jack  and 
others,  stopped  abreast  of  her.  Then,  with  a  majestic  step, 
and  leaning  on  her  lance,  she  slowly  descended  from  her 
rocky  perch,  and  with  stately  and  dignified  mien,  strode 
directly  towards  Washington.  All  were  sore.ly  puzzled, 
and  Braddock  most  of  all,  scarce  knowing  whether  she 
was  "  of  the  earth,  earthy,"  or  some  tutelar  divinity  of 
these  Western  wilds,  standing  at  their  very  entrance  to 
warn  off  intruders  from  her  dominions. 

All  at  once  Washington  recognized  her,  and  exclaimed, 
"  Why,  as  I  live,  General  and  gentlemen,  'tis  the  Delaware 
Queen  Alaquippa,  for  many  years  the  unwavering  friend 
of  the  English,  and  the  mother  of  our  two  trusty  scouts, 
Fairfax  and  New  Castle.  Come !  I  must  descend  and  meet 
her  with  due  deference,  for,  I  warn  you,  she  stands  greatly 
on  her  dignity.  She  was  once  greatly  offended  because  1 
dared  pass  her  royal  lodge — which  lies  at  the  junction  of 
the  Yough  with  yonder  river — without  calling  on  her." 

So  saying,  Washington  dismounted,  went  forward  to 
meet  her,  greeted  her  kindly  and  politely,  and  presented 
her  first  to  Braddock  and  after  to  the  other  officers,  and  to 
Marie. 

The  old  queen  spoke  pretty  fair  English,  and,  in  right 
royal  style,  bade  the  General  and  his  army  welcome  to  her 
country ;  told  him  of  the  route,  and  expresssed  the  hope 
that  he  would  speedily  take  the  fort  which  dominated  her 
river.  After  shaking  hands  all  round,  she  passed  tc  where 
were  Scarooyaddy  and  her  worthy  sons. 

By  8  o'clock  the  first  passage  of  the  river  was  made,  at 
a  point  opposite  Crooked  Run,  and  even  to  this  day  observ 
able  by  a  deep  scar  in  the  banks,  where  they  were  graded 


THE  DELAWARE  QUEEN  ALAQUIPPA.       263 

down  to  make  a  road  for  the  artillery.  The  army  now 
found  itself  on  a  broad  bottom,  covered  with  a  fme  growth 
of  maple,  walnut,  and  sycamore,  and  moved  steadily  for 
ward  in  the  road  cut  for  them. 

Soon  a  messenger  comes  back  from  Gage  to  inform 
Braddock  that  the  advance  has  recrossed  the  river  without 
any  resistance,  and  is  posted  agreeably  to  orders.  The 
only  enemy  seen  was  a  score  of  savages  who  had  been 
routed  from  cover  and  who  had  fled  at  his  approach.  This 
was  joyful  tidings,  for  if  the  foe  was  to  stand  anywhere, 
surely  the  river  crossing  was  the  expected  place.  By 
eleven  o'clock  the  second  ford  was  reached,  nearly  opposite 
the  mouth  of  Turtle  Creek,  and  but  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
below  what  is  known  now  as  the  "  Second  Dam." 

Here  the  "  broad  bottom  "  begins  to  narrow  until  it  runs 
into  the  hills  very  near  the  margin  of  the  river.  On  this 
grassy  savannah,  denuded  of  trees,  Braddock,  not  doubt 
ing  that  the  enemy  were  anxiously  watching  his  every 
motion,  resolved  to  impress  them  with  the  size  and  charac 
ter  of  his  command.  Accordingly,  while  the  banks  were 
being  graded  down,  on  that  as  well  as  the  other  side,  to 
allo\v  of  the  passage  of  the  artillery,  baggage  wagons, 
cattle,  etc.,  the  troops  were  ordered  to  appear  as  for  dress- 
parade. 

Now  the  astonished  hills  re-echo  with  the  loud  beat  of 
drums  and  the  swell  of  martial  music.  Every  man  was 
attired  in  his  cleanest  apparel.  The  burnished  arms  shone 
and  glistened  in  the  noonday  sun.  The  flags  and  colors 
were  unfurled,  and  the  joyful  and  well-drilled  troops,  glit 
tering  in  scarlet  and  gold,  were  rapidly  marched  and 
manoeuvred,  and  put  through  all  their  movements,  which 
they  executed  with  the  .precision  of  a  piece  of  machinery. 

This  plateau,  where,  for  over  an  hour,  all  this  showy 
parade  was  going  on,  was  in  full  and  uninterrupted  view 
from  the  subsequent  battle-field.  The  officers,  and  soldiers 


£64  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE.   . 

all  viewed  it  with  undisguised  pride  and  delight.  There 
was  but  one  universal  belief,  and  that  was  of  the  speedy 
occupation  of  the  fort.  It  is  no  wonder  that  Washington, 
in  after  life,  declared  it  to  be  the  most  beautiful  and  im 
posing  spectacle  he  had  ever  witnessed.  Even  Sir  Peter 
Halket,  as  the  grim  old  Scotch  soldier  sat  his  horse,  near 
where  Braddock,  Washington,  and  Mile,  de  Bonneville 
were  posted,  seemed  to  throw  off  entirely  the  gloom  of  the 
night  before. 

All  was  now  ready,  and  after  a  brief  repast  the  army 
had  safely  passed  over  by  the  second  ford,  and  reformed 
about  two  o'clock,  in  a  thick  walnut  grove,  several  hun 
dred  yards  below  the  mouth  of  Turtle  Creek,  and  hard  by 
Frazier's  cabin,  where  Jack  and  Scarooyaddy  made  such 
a  gallant  and  successful  resistance. 

How  sadly  and  yearningly  had  poor  Marie  kept  her  eyes 
towards  that  cabin,  and  to  the  sacred  spot  on  the  fver's 
margin  where  rested  all  that  was  mortal  of  he/ 
lamented  Father !  She  was  now  free  to  visit  it. 


CHAFFER  XLL 

TALBOT  AND  SMITH   IN   PRISON 

In  sooth,  I  know  not  why  I  am  so  sad ; 
It  wearies  me ;  you  say  it  wearies  you  ; 
But  how  I  caught  it;  found  it;  or  came  by  it; 
What  stuff  'tis  made  of;  whereof  it  is  born, 
I  am  to  learn. — Merchant  of  Venice. 

Go  we  now  back  to  poor  Talbot  and  Smith,  who,  after 
making  that  most  gallant  effort  to  escape  from  Fort  Du- 
quesne  by  water  on  the  day  of  the  canoe  races,  were  re-cap 
tured  by  Nymwha — the  young  lord's  Indian  Father  in 
posse — and  brought  back  to  Dumas.  The  plan  of  the 
fort  having  been  found  on  Talbot's  person,  that  officer 
remanded  him  back  to  the  guard  house,  as  a  person  too 
dangerous  to  be  left  at  large,  while  the  lad  Smith  was  put 
with  him  for  company. 

It  was  then  late  at  night,  and  after  having  had  the  full 
range  of  the  fort ;  having  enjoyed  the  exciting  boat-races, 
and  the  interesting  preparations  for  the  challenge  ball 
match,  which  were  even  then  being  continued,  it  may  well 
be  supposed  that  the  change  to  the  solitude  of  the  lonely 
guard-house  was  anything  but  pleasant. 

The  key  had  scarce  turned  in  the  massive  door,  and  the 
footsteps  of  the  guard  had  just  died  away  along  the  pas« 
sage,  when  Talbot — whom  it  was  difficult  long  to  repress 
— first  broke  the  silence  by  a  long  whistle,  and  then  a 
few  impatient  tattoos  with  his  feet  on  the  puncheon  floor, 
ending  in : 

265 


266  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 

"  Well,  here's  a  rum  go !  Jimmy,  if  you  feel  like  laugh 
ing  boisterously,  pray  dou't  mind  me ;  I'll  excuse  it,  but, 
I'm  going  to  swear.  If  you  know  any  word  bigger  or 
longer  to  swear  by  than  Nebuchadnezzar,  let  me  have  it. 
I  want  to  do  full  justice  to  the  occasion." 

Poor  Smith  was  in  sad  humor  for  jesting,  and  kept  a 
lugubrious  silence. 

"  Why,  James,  your  face  seems  to  have  soured  on  you. 
Liver  must  be  out  of  order.  Give  me  one  of  those  sweet 
smiles  of  yours  that  are  creating  so  many  flutters  under 
Mile.  Fleury's  bodice.  So — that's  better !  Never  get  in 
to  the  lollydrums,  lad  ;  they  won't  help  you  a  bit.  Leave 
them  for  love-sick  girls,  who've  nothing  to  do  but  dawdle." 

"  Why,  Mr.  Talbot,"  at  last  answered  Smith,  "  you're  a 
queer  cove  and  seem  to  take  life  very  easy." 

"  Got  to  do  so,  my  boy,  else  life  would  take  me  very 
hard.  I  see  nothing  in  our  present  condition  to  whine  or 
whimper  about.  I've  already  resolved  what  I'm  about 
to  do." 

"And,  please,  what  is  that,  sir?  I'm  but  a  green  boy 
— never  been  away  from  home  before ;  and  besides,  sir,  I 
don't  care  about  letting  you  know,"  sinking  his  voice,  and 
with  an  air  of  confidence,  "  I've — I'm — I've  got  a  sweet 
heart  at  home,  and  am  engaged  to  be  married." 

"  Phew !  the  devil !  why,  what  an  old  rouS  you  are,  to  be 
sure.  I'll  tell  Miss  Fleury  on  you.  But,  bother  the  girls, 
now.  Why,  I'm  not  a  very  old  chicken,  Jimmy,  and  y  3t 
I've  a  full  score  of  sweethearts  about  the  world,  of  all  lin 
goes  and  colors,  too,  from  pink-and-white  down  to  richest 
cream  color.  Never  feel  exactly  right  under  my  doublet 
unless  something  of  that  kind's  going  on.  Now,  I'm  get 
ting  real  anxious  about  Wau-ki-na,  the  young  Indian  prin 
cess  or  chieftainess,  or  whatever's  her  rank.  I've  never  yet 
seen  the  girl,  Jimmy,  to  match  her  for  either  grace,  beauty, 
or  modesty.  She's  struck  me  harder  than  usual.  Ileigho  i 


TALBOT   AXD   SMITH    IN   PRISON.  267 

James.  Plague  take  the  sirens,  I  say!  Never  out  of  otie's 
clutches  but  am  dropping  into  those  of  another.  As  the 
old  song  says,  '  First  be  off  with  the  old  love,  before  y  >u're 
on  with  the  new.'  Wau-ki-na,  too,  is  so  artless,  has  such 
soft,  lustrous  eyes  and  such  a  flute-like  voice.  I  never — " 

"  I  must  quote  your  own  words  on  you,  sir,"  interrupted 
Smith,  "  and  say,  '  Oh,  bother  the  girls,  now  1 '  What  / 
want  at  present,  is  to  get  out  of  this  scrape." 

"  A  fair  hit,  James.  I  owe  you  one.  Well,  first,  I  shall 
immediately  stretch  myself  on  Dumas'  robe  in  the  corner 
there — by  the  by,  Smith,  he's  a  devilish  clever  fellow,  is 
Dumas — and  will  put  a  solid  wedge  of  dreamless,  kickless, 
and  suoreless  sleep  between  the  two  days.  Second,  I'm 
oound  to  see  this  grand  ball  match  to-morrow,  and  shall 
Det  heavy  on  it.  The  only  way  to  get  rid  of  these  shabby, 
dilapidated  clothes,  is  to  win  a  new  suit  from  de  Lignery, 
tvho's  the  only  decently-dressed  Frenchman  in  the  fort — 
wonder  who  made  that  slashed  undress  of  his?  the  one  with 
the  frogs,  I  mean — and  thirdly,  and  lastly,  I'm  going  to 
give  my  parole  to  Dumas  to  be  a  good  boy,  talk  nothing 
but  French,  and  make  love  to  Miss  Fleury." 

"  What !  "  laughed  Smith,  "  going  to  call  old  Nymwha 
father,  embrace  Mrs.  Nymwha,  and  fish  out  of  a  bean-and- 
hominy  pot  with  all  the  dirty,  naked,  little  Nymwhas  ?  " 

"  See  here,  Smith !  I've  done  my  devoirs  to  Braddock  in 
drawing  him  a  tip-top  plan  of  the  old  fort  he's  after;  I've 
done  my  duty  to  myself  in  making  a  first-class  escape — not 
to  speak  of  that  confounded  notch — and  I've  done  my  duty 
to  old  father  Nymwha,  in  not  choking  him  to  death  when, 
after  landing  our  canoe,  he  opened  on  us  with  that  horrible, 
sepulchral  laugh.  Now,  then,  what's  the  use  of  sulking 
here  when  there's  so  much  fun  and  excitement  outside, 
and  when  Braddock  will  release  us  in  two  days?  I  want 
to  get  the  run  of  this  fort  before  our  General  gets  here.  I'd 
love  tc  set  up  housekeeping  in  that  blasted  old  de  Bcaujeu'a 


OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 

quarters.  I'd  like  to  do  a  month's  fishing,  and  hunting, 
and  courting  about  here.  Where  would  you  have  better, 
lad?  and  what  more  lovely  courting  material  could  you 
find  than  Captain  Pipe's  sweet  daughter  ?  Blamed  if  she 
isn't  the—" 

"  Yes,  yes !  but  do  you  think,  sir,  Braddock  will  take 
the  fort  so  easy?  There's  a  deal  of  Indians  camping  around, 
and  all  seem  very  confident  hereabouts." 

"Look  here,  Jimmy!  you  and  I'll  have  to  quarrel, 
straight,  if  you  even  hint  that  doubt  again.  You  don't 
know  Braddock  ;  why,  I've  seen  him,  in  Hyde  Park,  wheel 
and  turn  and  manoeuvre  his  '  Cold  Streams '  in  a  space  no 
bigger  than  a  parlor  floor,  and  never  a  jar,  or  hitch,  or  in 
terference — -just  like  a  well-oiled  piece  of  machinery.  Why, 
he's  confessed  the  best  drill-master  in  Europe !  Now,  what 
chance  will  a  set  of  raw  Canadians,  chasseeing  Frenchers, 
and  breech-clouted  savages  have  against  such  veterans? — 
each  as  steady  as  an  oak  and  as  cool  as  a  small  iceberg ! 
In  the  words  of  the  great  dramatist,  '  I  pause  for  a  reply ; ' 
But  come !  let's  to  sleep,  and  early  to-morrow  we'll  send  for 
Dumas." 

So  saying,  the  two  laid  them  down  on  the  robes  so  con 
siderately  provided  for  them  by  the  Captain,  and  were  soon 
fast  locked  in  slumber. 

Betimes  the  next  morning,  Talbot  knocked  away  until 
one  of  the  guard  made  his  appearance,  grumbling  at  his 
impudence,  and  telling  him,  in  a  surly  tone,  he  could  not 
have  his  breakfast  for  an  hour  yet. 

"  Did  you  think,  imbecile"  said  Talbot,  in  French,  "  that 
.r,  sent  for  the  bill  of  fare  or  for  lollipops?  I  want  to  see 
Captain  Dumas,  quick!  By  the  by,  aint  you  our  oM 
friend,  Pierre  Meurice?  I  thank  you,  in  the  name  of 
Jacques  Baptiste,  for  allowing  him  his  visit  to  the  Dela 
ware  girl." 

"  Mille  Diables!"  snorted  out  Meurice,  for  it  was  he 


TALBCT  AND  SMITH   IN   PRISON.  269 

*  but  that  was  a  shabby  trick  on  a  poor  soldier,  and  you, 
with  your  '  bad  cold,'  and  ycur  Delaware  girl !  Peste  1  but 
you've  found  that  two  can  play  at  tricks !  Old  Nymwha 
made  it  all  even.  Sacre-e-e !  " 

"  Monsieur  Nymwha,  please,  Meurice,  when  you  speak 
of  my  father ;  but  go,  go !  there's  a  good  fellow,  and  bring 
Dumas  here;"  aud  off  went  honest  Pierre,  muttering  and 
swearing  to  himself. 

The  Captain  soon  appeared  with  an  orderly,  bearing  a 
good,  warm  breakfast.  "  Eh,  bien,  milord  Talbot.  J'es- 
pere  que  vous  avez  bien  repos£,  hier  soir." 

"  Assez  bien,"  replied  Talbot,  in  the  same  language. 
"  Would  have  liked  better  passing  the  evening  with  your 
mess  or  Mile.  Fleury.  You  don't  bear  any  ill  will  to  me, 
Captain,  for  what  occurred  yesterday  ?  " 

"  Surely  not !  Your  plan  of  the  fort  was  a  good  and 
truthful  one,  and  if  you  had  gotten  clear  off,  I  wouldn't 
have  shed  many  tears  over  you." 

"May  I  ask,  Captain,  what  news  from  Braddock?" 

"  Certainly,  milord  ;  a  party  of  Shawnee  braves,  who  had 
a  most  desperate  fight  yesterday  with  Jack  and  Scaroo- 
yaddy — that  was  an  elegant,  drowning  game  the  cunning 
old  redskin  played  on  us ;  he  stands  higher  with  all  the 
Indian  tribes  about  here  now  than  ever — report  a  small 
body  of  cavalry  crossing  the  Monongahela  ford,  which  de 
notes  an  entire  change  of  route  on  Braddock's  part.  We 
have  now  a  large  force  of  whites  and  reds  out  watching  his 
every  step." 

"  And  so,"  said  Talbot,  "  Jack  and  the  Half-King  got 
off  after  all,  and  I  suppose  Gist  and  Fairfax  ?" 

"Yes,  all;  and  that's  not  the  worst  of  it.  The -former 
two  have  carried  off  Miss  de  Bonneville  and  her  father,  of 
whom  you  have  heard  us  all  so  often  speak,  and  the  inof 
fensive  old  gentleman  has  been  cruelly  murdered  by  one 
of  those  cursed  Shawnees,  tut  his  death,  from  all  their  ac* 


270  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 

counts,  was  quickly  and  fully  avenged.  That  Captain  Jack 
of  yours,  or,  as  ice  call  him,  'la  Carrabine  Noir,'  must  be  a 
very  incarnate  devil  to  fight.  He  don't  seem  to  know  the 
word  fear.  He's  a  match  for  our  La  Force,  whom  Major 
Washington  took  as  hostage.  I  hope,  milord,  you  haven't 
many  like  him  in  your  army — but  sit  to  your  breakfast, 
and  I'll  tell  you  the  whole  fight." 

After  the  breakfast,  Dumas  very  willingly  received  their 
paroles,  and  gave  them  again  the  freedom  of  the  fort.  Thia 
day  was  to  be  a  grand  gala  day.  Although  the  news  of 
Braddock's  approach  and  changed  route  evidently  created 
uneasiness  and  hastened  preparations,  the  ball-match  was 
to  go  on  as  announced,  commencing  at  nine. 

The  first  significant  sign  noted  by  Talbot,  \vas  that  a 
solitary  gun  was  mounted  on  a  carriage.  This,  together 
with  other  minor  facts,  looked  towards  either  an  abandon 
ment  of  the  position  without  striking  a  blow,  or  an  honor 
able  surrender  provided  an  evacuation  with  the  honors  of 
war  could  be  obtained.  The  daily  reports  of  the  size  of 
Braddock's  army — which  was  greatly  exaggerated — and 
the  order  and  discipline  with  which  every  move  was  made, 
had  so  operated  on  and  demoralized  the  Indian  allies,  that 
there  was  little  to  hope  in  the  way  of  successful  resistance, 
yet  still  a  brave  front  was  kept  up,  the  Commandant's  re 
solve — even  if  he  had  come  to  any — being  known  to  but  a 
few  of  his  officers. 

Long  before  the  hour  appointed,  the  whole  force  inside 
the  walls  had  taken  up  favorable  positions  on  the  parapets 
nearest  the  ground  staked  out.  Here  a  rude,  board  platform 
had  been  erected  for  better  accommodation.  Seen  the  huge 
gate  was  swung  open,  and  a  number  of  Indian  chiefs,  with 
a  few  squaws  and  maidens  entered,  and  strode  their  way 
to  the  seats.  Among  these  latter,  Talbot  was  rejoiced  to 
see  Wau-ki-na,  accompanied  by  her  grim  old  father,  and 
Captain  Jacob,  another  celebrated  Delaware  chief. 


CHAPTER  XLI1. 

WAU-KI-NA  AND  TALBOT — THE  BALL  MATCH. 

Shot,  by  heaven  !    Proceed,  sweet  cupid  1  thou  hast  thump'd  Lim 
with  thy  bird  bolt  under  the  left  pap. — Love's  Labor's  Lost. 

I  know  where  the  timid  fawn  abides 

lu  the  depth  of  the  shaded  dell, 
"Where  the  leaves  are  broad,  and  the  thicket  hides 
With  its  many  stems,  and  its  tangled  sides 

From  the  eye  of  the  hunter,  well. — Bryant. 

THE  fresh  young  girl  was  dressed  with  unusual  care  and 
richness,  and  looked  exceedingly  attractive,  but  very,  very 
sad.  Her  fine,  luxuriant  hair,  decked  only  with  a  simple 
wreath  of  wild-wood  flowers,  was  allowed  to  escape  from 
the  gold-rimmed  comb  she  had  won  at  the  late  race,  and 
fell  in  wavy  masses  down  her  back,  even  below  her  waist. 
Her  dark-blue  tunic  was  elaborately  embroidered  and 
curiously  inwrought  with  dyed  porcupine  quills,  and 
trimmed  with  eagle  and  wild-pigeon  feathers.  Her  neat- 
fitting,  fawn-skin  buskins  were  singularly  ornamented  with 
scalps  of  the  red-headed  wood-pecker  and  wild  duck, 
wrought  in  figures,  while  her  leggings  had  a  fringe  made 
from  the  tail  feathers  of  various  gay-colored  birds,  which 
were  attached  and  still  further  set  off  by  deftly-fashioned 
quill  work.  The  long  silken  sash,  also  her  prize  at  the  late 
race,  hung  gracefully  from  her  waist  and  completed  a  cos 
tume  no  less  tasteful  than  gaudy,  and  yet  all  seemed  in 
thorough  keeping,  not  only  with  the  girl  herself,  but  with 

the  occasion  and  the  surroundings. 

271 


272  OLD   FORT  DUQUESNE. 

Tallx  t  hastened  forward  to  the  brilliant  young  beauty, 
and  when  he  called  her  by  name,  and  Wau-ki-na  artlessly, 
but  shyly  took  his  proffered  hand,  the  young  lord — blazS 
as  he  was  in  such  interviews — felt  more  embarrassed  than 
he  could  have  thought  possible. 

"  Why,  Wau-ki-na,  this  is  an  unexpected  pleasure  I  If 
that's  your  father — and  it  seems  to  me  confounded  strange 
if  it  is — would  like  to  know  him." 

Wau-ki-na  timidly  plucked  Pipe's  robe,  and  gave  a  sort 
of  introduction,  when  the  powerful  old  chief  seized  hold  of 
Talbot's  delicate  hand,  and  gave  it  such  a  vice-like  grip 
and  shake,  that  the  bones  almost  crunched  under  it,  and 
tears  fairly  started  to  his  eyes. 

"I  think  I'll  know  the  chief  now,  Wau-ki-na.  He  seems 
like  a  very  cordial  sort  of  a  man.  He  must  paddle  a  good 
deal  in  canoes.  And  so  you  have  come  to  see  the  ball- 
play?" 

"  Yes,  Mr.  Lord  ;  but  Wau-ki-na  no  want  to  come,  and 
no  want  to  dress  this-a-way,  but  her  father  make  her.  Me 
very,  very  sad.  Marie — she  call  Wau-ki-ua  sister  some 
times — gone  far  away,  and  poor  old  Mr.  de  Bouneville 
killed.  He  was  a  so  good,  kind  man.  Oh,  Miss  Marie, 
she  never  happy  no  more — Wau-ki-na,  too — no  more  happy 
-—want  to  die ;  "  and  the  young  girl's  eyes  swam  with  tears. 

"  Oh,  nonsense !  my  girl,  this  wont  do !  You'll  be  happy 
plenty,  and  make  some  other  chappy  happy,  too." 

"  Chappy  ?  Me  no  understand  '  chappy.'  I  like  no  more 
my  town  and  people.  I  don't  go  in  canoe  nor  water,  not 
any  more.  I  love  only  Marie  and  her  Edward — Captain 
Jack  me  mean." 

"  Why,  Wau-ki-na,  Jack's  a  stern,  proud,  cross  man  ;  I 
never  could  make  anything  of  him  ;  he's  sour  as  vinegar^ 
and  as  haughty  as  Lucifer." 

"  No  kuow  Lu  nfer,  but  he  no  cross  to  Wau-ki-na,  nor 
Marie — gentle  as  falling  dew.  Me  love  to  get  near  him, 


WAU-KI-NA  AND  TALBOT.  273 

look  in  his  eyes,  and  hear  him  talk.  Don't  know  why. 
Me  wish  my  mother  was  alive.  Do  you  like  Wau-ki-ua 
very  much?"  raising  her  eyes  and  looking  shyly,  but 
straight  at  Talbot. 

"  My  God ! "  thought  Talbot  to  himself,  startled  at  the 
confiding  simplicity  of  the  question,  "  wonder  if  she,  too, 
takes  me  for  a  female  woman  ;  but  no,  impossible  !  " 

"  Why,  you  funny  little  puss,"  he  laughingly  replied, 
actually  blushing  at  the  nalvetS  of  the  question,  "  of  course 
I  do.  Who  could  help  liking  you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  Wau-ki-na  so  glad.  She  like  you,  very  much ;  " 
and  then,  in  low  and  confidential  tones,  "  me  don't  care  no 
more  for  Indian.  Me  like  white  people  better — and  want 
to  learn  English." 

"  You  would  ?  Well,  I'd' like  to  teach  you  English,  and 
French,  too,  and  German,  and — and — several  other  Euro 
pean  tongues.  But,  come !  let  us  get  a  good  seat  to  see  the 
play.  Do  you  think  your  father  would  want  to  shake 
hands  again  if  I  offered  to  take  you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  he  no  care ;  me  go  with  you,"  and  off  the  little 
couple  -started,  meeting  Mile.  Fleury  by  the  way,  who, 
after  kissing  Wau-ki-na — Talbot  mentally,  but  not  entirely 
to  his  own  satisfaction,  going  through  the  same  motions — 
took  places  with  them.  All  was  now  ready  for  the  great 
ball-match,  the  preliminaries  of  which,  as  already  described, 
had  been  going  on  the  whole  of  the  preceding  night. 
The  ground  had  been  marked  out  right  outside  the  great 
gate  and  along  the  Allegheny ;  "  byes,"  or  goals  driven 
at  either  end;  all  the  bets  made  across  the  "betting  line," 
and  stakes  deposited,  and  the  dances  and  invocations 
ended. 

The  anxious  contestants  were  scattered  over  the  field 
awaiting  the  signal — four  hundred  picked  red  men,  dives 
ted  of  all  clothes  but  their  moccasins  and  breech-clouts, 
which  were  fastened  to  broad  bead-belts.  Most  of  the  far« 
18 


274  OLI    FORT   DUQUESNE. 

western  Indians — coming  from  a  region  where  horses  were 
abundant — had  each  a  tuft  of  white  horse  hair  depending 
from  this  belt,  and  a  sort  of  mane  of  dyed  hair  or  quills, 
running  from  between  the  shoulders  to  the  base  of  the 
head. 

Two  hundred  of  the  young,  brawny  fellows  now  strut 
ting  about  the  field,  were  Ottawas  and  Chippewas,  led  on 
by  the  fierce  and  fiery  Pontiac — the  head  and"t)rains  in  the 
desperate  struggle  which  broke  out  a  few  years  after,  well 
known  as  "  Pontiac's  War."  The  other  two  hundred  were 
selected  from  the  Delawares,  Shawnees  and  Iroquois,  living 
about  the  head  of  the  Ohio,  and  led  by  Pukeshinwa,  a 
noted  Shawnee  chief,  and  father  of  the  afterwards  famous 
Tecumseh. 

Now,  two  aged  Sachems,  ball  in  hand,  step  forward  to 
the  stake  driven  equi-distant  from  the  goals.  The  most 
eager  and  skillful  players  of  both  sides,  flourishing  a  bat 
in  either  hand  like  the  modern  "  shinny  stick,"  but  with  a 
web  of  thongs  across  the  curve,  crowd  around.  The  object 
of  the  players  was  to  drive  the  ball  through  their  respec 
tive  wickets,  which  scored  one  in  the  game  of  a  hundred. 
No  player  was  allowed  to  touch  the  ball  with  anything  but 
the  netted  stick.  When  the  ball  passed  a  wicket,  an  in 
terval  of  one  minute  was  permitted  before  it  was  again  tossed 
for  the  next  bout. 

Now  the  deep  boom  of  a  cannon  is  heard  from  the  fort, 
and  before  its  echoes  are  returned  from  the  surrounding 
hills,  the  ball  is  in  the  air,  the  mob  of  players  leap  to  the 
centre,  and  a  desperate  struggle  is  immediately  com 
menced. 

There  they  go — the  surging,  swaying,  almost  naked 
crowds — pell-mell,  helter-skelter — now  up,  now  down — now 
here,  now  there — now  packed  in  dense,  writhing,  desper 
ately-struggling  masses,  and  now  scattered  over  the  field. 
or  leaping,  shouting,  and  giving  forth  sharp,  shrill  yelps  as 


WAU-KI-NA   AND   TALBOT.  275 

they  rush  after  those  who  were  running  with  the  ball 
before  them. 

It  was  a  wonderfully  exciting  scene — so  many  strong, 
supple  and  well-proportioned  athletes — active  as  panthers, 
lithe  as  leopards,  earnest  as  death — all  their  thews  and 
muscles  in  full  play  and  in  open  view.  What  a  study  for 
a  sculptor!  None  could  look  and  remain  passive,  and 
cheer  after  cheer  came  from  the  fort  parapets,  along  which 
thronged  soldiers,  officers,  visitors — everybody. 

Talbot  sat  between  Wau-ki-na  and  Mile.  Fleury,  and 
should  have  been  as  calm,  and  "  happy  as  a  clam  at  high 
tide,"  but  he  wasn't,  not  a  bit  of  it,  but  kept  bobbing  up 
and  down  like  a  cork  in  a  whirlpool,  and  when,  at  last,  old 
Pukeshiuwa  took  the  ball,  and,  in  spite  of  all  opposition, 
bravely  carried  it  through  his  wicket,  which  was  almost 
under  the  fort  stockade,  Talbot  was  fairly  beside  himself. 
He  rose  up  and  cheered  till  he  almost  choked,  and  then 
snatched  off  his  wig  and  flourished  it  around  in  so  excit 
ing  a  manner,  that  even  the  Indians  about  laughed  out 
their  approval.  Nymwha  grinned  at  him  like  a  Chesser 
cat.  The  young  lord  subsided  somewhat  as  he  noticed  old 
Captain  Pipe  coming  patronizingly  forward  with  his  huge 
bony  paw  extended,  and  looking  as  if  he  wished  to  shake 
hands  again  with  him.  He  then  found  it  convenient  to 
give  Wau-ki-na  a  lesson  in  English. 

"  Do  you  think,  my  lord,"  proudly  exclaimed  Captain 
Dumas — the  subsequent  commander  of  the  fort  and  a 
brave  and  gallant  officer — "  that  all  those  pretty  fellows 
there  will  quietly  open  the  fort  gates  for  Le  General  Brad- 
dock  to  enter?" 

"Eh,  what!  Braddock?  Where  is  he?— Oh,  now  I 
understand.  That's  not  the  question  just  now  before  the 
House,  Captain;  but  what  will  ycu  bet  on  this  play ?  I 
go  two  to  one  on  the  Ohio  Indians;  if  Captain  de  Lignrry 


276  OLD    FORT    DUQUESXE. 

is  there,  I'll  lay  him  a  new  velvet  suit,  if  I  can  -,nly  come 
at  his  Paris  tailor.  lie  dresses  like  a  count." 

"  And  yet,"  retorted  Dumas,  "  you're  shouting  yourself 
hoarse  over  those  glistering  redskins,  who  don't  dress  at- all 
—that  is,  none  tc  speak  of." 

To  Wau-ki-na  in  English : "  He  has  me  there,  Wau-ki-na 
—but  I'll  be  even  with  him."  To  Dumas  in  French: 
"  Captain,  I  profess  to  be  a  connoisseur  in  fashions.  Now, 
if  I  were  an  Indian — and  Nymwha  there  thinks  I'd  make 
a  first-rate  one — I  might  consider  myself  dressed  in  a 
breech-clout,  a  necklace  of  bears-claws,  and  some  streaks 
of  red  paint.  'Tis  not  exactly  full  dress,  you  know,  neither 
do  I  think  such  a  suit  would  improve  my  appearance,  that's 
the  naked  truth,  yet  still — " 

But  here  the  cannon  sounded  for  the  second  round,  and 
at  it  they  went  again.  It  is  extraordinary  the  interest  all 
tribes  of  Indians  take — or  used  to  take — in  the  game  of 
call,  and  the  great  skill  they  attained  in  it.  Matches  were 
sometimes  made  between  whole  tribes,  in  which  there 
would  be  thousands  on  a  side,  and  entire  days  occupied 
before  the  game  was  concluded.  All  weapons  were  care 
fully  left  behind,  and  when  single  encounters  took  place, 
which  were  almost  constantly,  even  the  sticks  were  laid 
down,  and  they  would  wrestle  or  fight  out  their  little  differ 
ences,  and  then  join  the  throng  again. 

Even  the  women  had  their  ball-plays,  the  only  differ 
ence  being  that  they  used  two  balls  attached  to  a  thong, 
about  a  foot  and  a  half  long,  and  instead  of  a  curved 
stick  with  a  web,  they  all  held  short  straight  sticks,  one  in 
each  hand,  with  which  they  would  catch  the  string  and 
throw  the  ball  toward  their  own  goal.  There  were  matches, 
too,  between  the  young  men  and  women  of  a  village,  at 
which  it  was  permitted  the  young  fellows  to  catch  the 
«jquaws  and  wrestle  for  the  ball.  It  is  said,  by  those  whc 
have  witnessed  these  games,  that  the  girls  were  more  pas 


WAU-KI-NA  AND  TALBOT.  277 

Bionately  fond  of  the  play  than  the  men,  and  in  the  frequent 
wrestles,  managed  often  to  come  off  victorious. 

The  combatants  of  the  present  contest — the  first  flush 
of  excitement  over — now  settled  down  to  their  work  more 
steadily,  but  occasionally  there  would  be  struggles  cf 
terrific  desperation  and  intense  interest.  Sometimes,  at 
a  critical  point  of  the  game,  and  especially  when  the  ball 
was  on  the  ground,  the  whole  field  of  players  would  be 
gathered  about  it  in  a  confused  mass — pushing,  wrestling, 
scuffling,  knocking  their  sticks  together,  raising  up  clouds 
of  dust,  never  once  seeing  the  ball,  but  still  contending  for 
it  long  after  it  had  been  sent  to  another  part  of  the  field. 

There  were  also  innumerable  incidents  of  a  comical 
nature.  Sudden  collisions  would  occur.  Flying  leaps 
would  be  taken  over  the  heads  and  shoulders,  and,  as  it 
was  allowable  to  impede  an  adversary  in  every  possible 
way,  sudden  darts  would  be  made  under  the  legs  or 
dexterous  trip-ups  caused,  creating  personal  conflicts  or 
shouts  of  merriment. 

Up  to  noon,  the  lake  tribes  were  considerably  ahead  on 
the  score,  but  after  a  short  interval  of  rest,  the  Ohio 
Indians  went  into  the  game  with  such  earnest  effort  and 
determination  that  they  were  brought  nearly  even  with 
their  adversaries.  The  struggle  then  became  terrific  in  its 
intensity  and  superhuman  effort.  The  feeling,  too,  grew 
deeper,  and  the  temper  more  uncertain.  Angry  exclama 
tions,  derisive  shouts,  and  sharp  conflicts  occurred,  not 
only  between  individuals,  but  between  whole  groups,  and 
the  sport  was  fast  becoming  hot  and  furious. 


CHAPTER  XLIIL 

A   QUARREL  AMONG   INDIANS. 

Rest !  Thy  warrior  tribes  so  bold 

Roam  no  more  these  forests  old ; 

And  the  thundering  fire-canoe 

Sweeps  their  placid  waters  through. 

Science  rules  where  Nature  smiled ; 

Art  is  toiling  in  the  wild  ; 

And  their  mouldering  cairns  alone 

Tell  the  tales  of  races  gone. — Luella  Case. 

FOR  a  prisoner,  it  might  be  considered  that  on  this  day 
Talbot  was  h%ving  rather  a  good  time.  He  certainly  made 
the  most  o\  1'  -s  opportunities  with  Wau-ki-na,  who  seemed 
to  be  getti-ig  a  stronger  hold  on  his  ardent  fancy  than  he 
would  havs  V'shed  to  confess — perhaps  more  than  he  knew 
himself.  It  was  very  amusing  to  watch  the  behavior  of 
the  two,  for  Mile.  Fleury,  disgusted  with  the  one-sidcdness 
of  Talbot's  attentions,  very  soon  deserted  him. 

The  couple  gradually  tired  of  the  play  and  wandered 
all  over  the  fort  together,  promenaded  the  parapets,  gazed 
out  upon  the  rivers  and  surrounding  hills,  and  seemed  like 
two  careless,  happy  children  out  for  a  day's  frolic.  His 
instructions  in  English  were  very  assiduous,  and  must 
have  been  at  times  amusing,  judging  from  the  little  melo 
dious  ripples  of  laughter  that  came  from  her  lips. 

The  shyness  and  sadness  of  the  young  woodland  beauty 
gradually  wore  away,  and  she  became  more  engaging  and 
Communicative.  Even  her  broken  English  and  queer 
278 


A   QUARREL   AMONG   INDIANS.  279 

pronunciation  pleased.  Talbot  soon  knew  all  about  her 
relations  with  Jack  and  Marie ;  about  her  home,  her  com 
panions,  her  duties  and  enjoyments,  and  was  infinitely 
amused  at  the  simplicity  and  naivete  of  her  remarks,  going 
off  a  step  or  two  and  looking  at  her,  and  then  laughingly 
approaching  again,  as  if  he  never  had  in  all  his  life  seen 
just  such  an  odd,  taking  little  witch. 

Once,  when  standing  by  the  big  gate  and  looking  up  the 
Allegheny,  Talbot  said :  "  And  Shaunopin,  where  you  live, 
is  just  around  yonder  point,  is  it,  Wau-ki-na?" 

"  Yes,  and  much  pretty  place.  You  come  soon  and  see 
Wau-ki-na.  She  live  in  woods  and  on  the  water.  She 
show  you  where  be  all  the  pretty  flowers ;  where  the  bees 
hide  their  honey ;  where  you  find  many  birds ;  you  teach 
me  Marie's  talk,  I  teach  you  how  to  paddle  canoe,  and 
Bhoot,  and  fish,  and  dance,  and  swim." 

"  Why  you  must  lead  an  idle,  merry,  vagaboudish  life, 
Ki-na.  Play  all  day  ;  no  work,  no  trouble,  no  lessons." 

The  girl's  countenance  changed. 

"  Yes,  much  trouble  sometimes.  When  snow  comes, 
wigwam  cold  and  wet,  fish  no  plenty,  birds,  deer  and  bear 
sometime  all  go  away,  and — "  sinking  her  voice  to  a  lower 
key — "  Indians  drink  pale-face  '  fire-water,'  and  fight  and 
scold  much.  That  make  Wau-ki-na  pretty  much  sad — 
make  her  fall  tears.  Old  squaws  very  cross — winter  not 
good  time  for  Ki-na  ;  she  like  summer  and  the  woods  much 
as  the  birds." 

"  And  is  your  father  ever  very  cross  to  you,  dainty  little 
maiden  ?  " 

"  No— yes — not  so  much.  When  he  get  fire-water,  or 
when  Ki-na  very  bad  ;  you  mustn't,"  looking  reproachfully 
at  her  companion,  "  ask  such  tings — come,  see  ?  " 

"  Well,  to  be  sure  I  will,  when  I  get  to  be  Nymwha's 
eon.  Did  you  know,  Ki-na,  I  was  going  to  turn  Indian? 
What  kind  of  a  chief  do  you  think  I'd  make?"  taking  a 


280  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 

position  and  drawing  himself  up  as  tall,  and  looking  at 
fierce  as  possible. 

This  brought  out  a  musical  little  laugh  and  a  merry 
twinkle  of  the  eye  not  altogether  pleasant  to  the  little 
Lord. 

"  Oh,  you  make  so  funny  Indian.  Your  hair's  too  much, 
skin  too  white,  hands  too  little,  little,  and  you  not  high 
enough.  When  you  hunt  deer  and  eat  much  venison,  you 
grow,  oh,  so  big,"  putting  her  tawny  little  hand  above 
Talbot's  head.  "  You  make  very  nice  Indian  girl,  though." 

"  What !  you  tormenting  little  minx,"  hastily  exclaimed 
her  mortified  companion.  "  That's  not  nice  of  you :  mustn't 
talk  that  foolish  way.  Come!  let's  go  and  watch  the 
play." 

Talbot  sat  quiet  and  with  averted  face  so  long,  and 
Beemed  so  desperately  intent  on  the  game,  that  Wau-ki-na 
finally  touched  his  hand,  timidly  glanced  up  into  his  face 
with  a  very  droll,  coquettish  look,  in  which  shyness  and 
merriment  were  about  equally  mingled,  and  whispered : 

"  Mr.  Lord,  Wau-ki-na  am  mistook.  She  think  you  be 
great  big  chief  like  my  father;  make  all  the  braves 
tremble." 

"  Oh,  girl,  that  wont  do ;  comes  too  late,  and's  too  much 
on  t'other  side.  I'm  very,  very  angry,"  and  he  stayed 
angry  for  at  least — five  minutes. 

Meanwhile  the  game  had  gone  on  with  varying  fortune, 
but  with  increased  feeling  and  even  bitterness,  until  about 
five  of  the  evening,  when  a  dispute  suddenly  arose  about 
the  ball  being  carried  by  one  of  the  Ohio  Indians  through 
the  wicket,  and  which  the  fierce  Pontiac  charged  was  un 
fair  and  contrary  to  rule.  There  was  immediate  commo 
tion  and  great  clamor.  The  hot  blood  was  up  on  both 
sides,  and  a  war  of  angry  words  ensued,  followed  by  many 
encounters  in  different  parts  of  the  field. 

Finally,  an  Ottawa  was  unfortunately  felled  with  one  of 


A  QUARREL  AMONG   INDIANS.  281 

the  bats,  when,  with  a  cry  of  terrible  rage  and  with  shrill 
whoops,  the  lake  Indians,  with  one  accord,  rushed  to  the 
woods  where  the  arms  were  piled  under  guard. 

The  other  side,  too,  made  a  rush  for  their  weapons,  and 
both  parties,  violently  thrusting  aside  the  guards,  seized 
knives  and  tomahawks,  brandished  them  fiercely  about 
their  heads,  and  with  great  leaps  and  yells  and  terrible 
whoops,  were  just  about  rushing  to  the  deadly  encounter, 
when  all  at  once,  the  great  gun  of  the  fort  boomed  out  its 
reverberating  roar ;  the  massive  log  gate  was  let  down  to 
make  the  drawbridge,  and  a  company  of  armed  soldiers, 
accompanied  by  de  Beaujeu  and  the  other  officers  and 
numerous  Indian  chiefs,  poured  out  upon  the  plain. 

At  the  same  time  two  Indian  couriers,  almost  spent  with 
running  and  covered  with  sweat,  were  seen  to  issue  from 
the  woods,  at  foot  of  the  eminence  which  is  now  called 
"  Grant's  hill,"  and  to  make  rapidly  across  the  interval. 
There  was  an  immediate  hush  of  all  the  clamor.  The 
Indians  on  both  sides  stood  with  sullen,  dogged,  vindictive 
looks,  as  if  transfixed  into  statues.  The  runners  stopped 
not  until  along  side  of  de  Beaujeu  and  Athanase,  the 
christianized  Cauhuewaga  from  Quebec  and  the  recognized 
leader  of  all  the  Indian  forces  with  the  French.  To  them 
they  hurriedly  delivered  their  message,  which  it  was  evi 
dent  to  all  was  one  of  great  moment. 

Now  de  Beaujeu  advances,  and  a  brief  but  earnest  dis 
cussion  follows.  Curiosity  on  the  part  of  all  on-lookera 
begins  to  take  the  place  of  rage  and  hate.  The  weapons 
drop  to  the  side,  the  countenances  soften,  and  all  eyes  are 
anxiously  bent  on  the  runners.  At  last,  Commandant  de 
Beaujeu,  who  was  very  much  beloved  by  the  savages,  and 
who  exercised  over  them  a  powerful  influence,  strode  for 
ward  with  dignity,  accompanied  by  Athanase.  The  thou« 
sand  Indians  from  so  many  different  warlike  tribes,  and 
who  were  but  just  now  prepared  to  hack  each  other  to 


282  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 

pieces,  ciowd  around  in  a  semicircle,  the  various  chiefi 
a  few  steps  in  advance. 

Then  the  old  Athanase,  gathering  up  his  rcbe  and 
stretching  out  his  arm  for  silence,  commenced  : 

"Shame!  shame!  Sachems  and  warriors — must  the  sons 
of  Onontio  turn  themselves  into  foolish  children?  Must 
they,  like  maddened  wolves,  fight,  rend,  and  devour  each 
other  over  a  few  naked  bones  ?  The  Great  Spirit  will  be 
angry  and  turn  forever  from  his  children,  if  it  is  thus 
they  make  haste  to  offend  him.  You  are  gathered  here 
from  many  different  tribes  and  by  many  different  roads — 
from  the  great  western  waters  and  from  the  big  rivers, 
and  for  what  ? — to  snarl  and  quarrel  among  yourselves  ? 
or  to  fight  and  drive  back  a  common  foe  ? — one  who  has 
dug  up  the  hatchet  against  you;  who  would  sweep  you 
from  your  hunting  grounds ;  who  would  steal  away  your 
head  and  strength  with  strong  waters,  and  who  would 
drive  you  and  your  families  from  the  graves  of  their  an 
cestors  ! 

"  Look  you  here,  brothers !"  pointing  to  the  two  runners 
who,  jaded  and  panting,  were  standing  a  step  or  two  in  the 
rear ;  "  where  think  you  do  these  come  from,  and  what 
message  do  they  bring?  The  proud,  pale-face  general, 
with  a  great  army  from  beyond  the  sea,  is  now  coming  into 
your  grounds,  among  your  own  woods  and  wigwams,  to  kill 
and  burn  and  destroy.  Coming,  did  I  say  ?  He  is  now 
almost  here.  These  two  have  seen  him  but  a  few  brief 
hours  ago.  They  have  made  haste  to  tell  you  that  you 
might  know  what  to  do." 

This  announcement  created  a  great  sensation  among  the 
listeners.  All  animosity  against  each  other  vanished  on 
the  instant,  and  the  chiefs  commenced  discussing  the  mat 
ter  in  low  tones. 

Athanase  resumed  :  "  Brothers,  there  is  no  time  left  now  to 
wnoke  and  talk.  Your  braves  have  followed  this  army  ever) 


A  QUARREL   AMONG   INDIANS.  283 

ttep  from  Cucucbutuc  (Cumberland).  You  know  its  sue,  ita 
leader,  Low  many  big  cannon  come  with  it.  You  have 
taken  some,  and  killed  and  scalped  others  of  its  braves. 
General  Braddock  is  changing  his  course.  He  now  cornea 
by  the  Monongahela  fords  and  crosses  at  the  Tulpewi 
Sipu  (Turtle  Creek).  When  the  sun  stood  in  mid-sky 
this  very  day,  he  was  preparing  for  the  march.  To-mor 
row's  noon  will  see  him  at  the  Tulpewi  Sipu,  and  the  next 
sun  will  see  him  before  that  big  gun  house. 

"  Tis  for  you  to  say  whether  he  shall  enter  it  and  drive 
you  across  the  Ohio,  or  whether  all  these  western  tribes 
will  scatter  his  warriors  and  drive  him  back  over  the 
mountains  whence  he  came.  I,  and  my  Caughnewagas, 
have  come  all  the  way  from  Canada  to  help  you  do  this. 
The  Ottawas,  Chippewas,  and  Pottowatomies  from  the 
lakes,  will  also  go  on  the  war-path  with  you." 

Beaujeu,  who  thoroughly  understood  the  Indian  language 
and  character,  followed  to  the  same  effect,  artfully  and  elo 
quently  depicting  the  dreadful  effects  which  would  fo'llow 
if  the  English  were  once  allowed  to  get  a  lodgment  in  the 
Ohio  country ;  reciting  the  wrongs  they  had  already  suf 
fered  ;  how  the  Six  Nations,  living  at  a  great  distance  and 
assuming  to  be  their  masters,  had  been  bought  or  persuaded 
in  their  cups  to  sell  tract  after  tract  of  western  land  ;  how 
English  and  Irish  traders  had  come  among  them,  to  first 
make  them  drunk,  and  then  cheat  them  out  of  their  skins, 
debauch  their  women,  and  deprive  them  of  their  hunting 
grounds.  He  then  endeavored  to  show  them  that  the 
French  were  their  friends ;  that  they  lived,  hunted,  and 
married  with  them  without  wanting  their  lands,  and  that 
they  had  been  as  prodigal  of  their  gifts  as  the  English 
had  been  stingy,  etc.,  etc. 

The  plausible  Beaujeu  used  every  art  and  device  of  rhe 
toric  to  influence  their  minds  and  lead  captive  their  judg« 
ment,  but  he  only  partially  succeeded.  None  knew  better 


284  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 

than  these  experienced  chiefs,  the  size,  discipline,  and  com 
plete  appointments  of  Braddock's  army,  whose  numbera 
they,  however,  greatly  exaggerated.  They  knew  well,  also, 
the  small  French  force  at  the  fort  and  very  much  doubted 
their  ability  to  make  a  successful  stand.  Very  many  of 
them,  too,  were  tired  with  the  long  waiting,  and  were  ready, 
at  the  first  pretext,  to  break  with  their  allies.  When  Beau- 
jeu  had  concluded,  therefore,  they  broke  up  into  little  knots, 
and  discussed  the  whole  matter  with  warmth  and  earnest 
ness.  Finally  King  Beaver,  of  the  Delawares,  speaking 
the  general  sense,  made  brief  reply  : 

"  Our  ears  have  been  open,  my  Father,  to  what  you  had 
to  say.  It  has  entered  deep  into  our  hearts,  and  AVC  wish 
to  turn  it  round  and  round.  We  do  know  all  about  this 
great  army  of '  pale-faces '  which  is  coming  into  our  grounds. 
Most  of  us  used  to  be  friends  with  them,  and  you,  my  Father, 
have  done  all  you  could  to  blow  up  a  great  cloud  between 
us.  We  are  not  certain  that  you  mean  better  to  us  than 
they.  If  they  claim  the  lands  west  of  the  Alleghenies,  and 
you  claim  them  also,  where,  pray,  do  the  Indian  lands  lay  ? 
Are  you  so  bent  on  destruction  that  you  can  ask  us  to  go 
out  with  one  thousand  against  four  thousand  warriors? 
Would  you  sacrifice  us  to  save  your  big  gun  house?  Truly, 
this  is  not  the  saying  of  a  wise  man.  But  we  will  treasure 
up  all  that  we  have  now  heard,  and  to-morrow  you  shall 
know  all  our  thoughts." 

Beaujeu  vehemently  tried  to  persuade  them  to  change 
their  purpose,  arguing  that  if  resistance  was  to  be  made,, 
steps  must  be  taken  that  very  night,  but  all  to  no  effect. 
They  answered  it  was  too  important  a  matter  to  be  decided 
hastily,  and  they  would  hold  a  grand  council  on  it 


CHAPTER  XLIV. 

GRAND  COUNCIL — THE  CHIEFS  REFUSE. 

Woe  to  the  English  soldiery, 

That  little  dread  us  near ! 
On  them  shall  light  at  midnight 

A  strange  and  sudden  fear ; 
When,  waking  to  their  tents  on  fire, 

They  grasp  their  arms  in  vain ; 
And  they  who  stand  to  face  us 

Are  beat  to  earth  again. — Bryant. — Marion't  Men, 

THE  game  was  virtually  over ;  for,  although  renewed,  ita 
ipirit  was  gone,  and  a  "  draw  "  was  announced.  The  usual 
keg  of  rum  was  distributed  among  the  players,  but  the  late 
misunderstanding  had  caused  a  shock,  a  stiffness,  a  sore 
ness,  which  prevented  further  cordiality.  The  visitors  in 
side  the  fort  soon  took  their  leave,  Talbot  accompanying 
Wau-ki-na  to  the  very  gate,  and  whispering,  as  he  pressed 
her  wee  hand :  "  Good-bye,  my  winsome  little  gypsy,  we'll 
meet  again.  I  have  much  yet  to  toll  you,  and  soon."  He 
would  have  said  more,  had  not  her  father  just  then  turned 
and  offered  his  hand  for  a  farewell  grip,  but  Talbot  had 
vanished ;  he  would  as  soon  have  inserted  his  digits  in  a 
Bteel-trap. 

All  the  Sachems  and  leading  chiefs  held  a  grand  "  pow 
wow  "  that  night  under  the  trees.  Their  discussion  waa 
protracted,  and  at  times,  exceedingly  earnest.  Pontiac, 
Athanase,  old  King  Shingiss,  and  lastly,  Blackhoof,  smart 
ing  under  the  severe  punishment  lately  administered  to 

285 


286  OLD    FORT   DUQUESXE. 

him  by  Jack,  spoke  briefly  but  hotly  in  favor  of  an  attack 
on  the  English,  regardless  of  numbers:  but  then  followed 
the  more  temperate  and  digniiied  utterances  of  Killbuck, 
Kateuskund,  King  Beaver,  and  other  old  Sachems  and  war 
like  leaders  of  weight  and  influence.  These  had  lately 
been  estranged  from  the  English ;  would  have  been,  had 
they  been  more  adroitly  managed,  still  their  allies,  and  had 
more  to  dread,  in  case  of  defeat,  than  the  lake  and  Canada 
tribes.  (See  Appendix  U.) 

Prudence  and  interest  at  length  got  the  better  of  valor 
and  hate,  and  it  was  finally  resolved  that  it  would  be  mad 
ness  to  think  of  resisting  Braddock's  army  with  their  small 
numbers,  and  that  so  the  Commandant  should  be  informed. 
The  council  then  broke  up,  and  all  was  stillness. 

Beaujeu  passed  an  anxious  night.  He  was  a  man  of 
great  nerve  and  of  prompt  action,  and  had  for  some  days 
back  been  fearing  some  such  denouement  as  this.  He  had 
watched  the  Indians  closely  ;  had  sought  out  their  chiefs 
for  private  interviews,  at  which  he  employed  all  his  art 
and  ability,  but  was  forced  to  acknowledge  that  notwith 
standing  all  the  prodigal  means  used  to  assemble  and  hold 
firm  his  red  allies,  they  were  liable  to  fail  him  at  the  last 
moment. 

Much,  then,  depended  on  the  resolve  of  the  Grand  Coun 
cil  ;  and  early  the  next  day  Beaujeu  issued  out  alone 
to  know  the  result.  He  soon  met  King  Shingiss  and 
Beaver. 

"  My  children  are  astir  betimes.  They  have  had  much  wise 
talk  together.  What  do  the  great  war  chiefs  say  ?  Will 
they  aid  us  with  their  braves  to  drive  Braddock  and  his 
dogs  into  the  Monougahela,  and  make  it  red  with  their 
blood?" 

"  Our  Father,"  said  old  Beaver,  "  is  not  wise  to  ask  us  to 
do  this  thing.  He  would  sacrifice  us  to  save  his  gun  house, 
which  is  on  our  ground,  and  which  we  have  '  warned  off 


GRAND   COUNCIL — THE   CHIEFS   REFUSE.  287 

many  times.  We  are  sorry,  but  Onontio  must  fight  hia 
own  battles ;  we  cannot  aid  him." 

This  was  a  terrible,  though  as  we  have  premised,  not  an 
entirely  unexpected  stroke  to  Beaujeu.  He  saw  that  the 
capture  of  Duquesne  would  be  a  death  blow  to  French  do 
minion  west  of  the  mountains.  If  they  could  not  stand 
there,  they  could  stand  nowhere.  Vast  sums  and  great 
effort  had  been  spent  in  collecting  and  holding  together 
these  Indian  bands,  gathered  from  far  and  near,  and  now 
here  was  the  fair  fabric  he  had  been  so  patiently  and  labo 
riously  building,  all  tumbled  into  ruins  about  his  feet.  The 
mortified  officer  flushed  up  with  indignation,  and  bit  hia 
lips  with  anger.  He  scarce  could  trust  himself  to  speak ; 
at  last,  schooling  his  voice,  he  simply  and  with  great  dig 
nity,  said  : 

"  And  this  is  the  voice  of  the  council  ?  'Tis  well.  'Tis 
better  to  be  deserted  here  than  in  the  midst  of  battle. 
Onontio  did  not  expect  this  of  his  beloved  children.  The 
time  for  repentance  will  come  speedily,  and  punishment 
will  be  swift  and  overwhelming.  I  know  we  can  beat  back 
this  proud  and  insolent  General.  We  will  fight  him  at 
the  river's  crossing,  where  one  will  be  equal  to  twenty. 
And  will  you  let  your  Father  go  out  alone?  "  he  concluded, 
Badly. 

Beaujeu  had,  as  we  have  said,  great  influence  with  the 
savages,  by  all  of  whom  he  was  much  beloved.  He  man 
aged  them  with  exceeding  adroitness,  and  his  words  now 
caused  the  chiefs  to  waver.  After  consulting  together,  the 
fiery  old  King  Shingiss  said: 

"  Shingiss  and  his  Delawares  will  go  with  you  if  'tis  an 
ambush  you  seek.  You  would  be  mad  to  try  a  great  bat 
tle — one  against  three.  'Tis,  as  you  know,  against  Indian 
law  and  custom  to  join  open  battle  with  superior  numbers, 
but  if  you  choose  your  ground  and  lay  an  ambush,  or  will 


288  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 

fight  them  at  the  ford,  all  the  chiefs  will  join  you,  and  1 
epeak  for  them." 

"  Enough !  'tis  all  I  ask ! "  joyfully  exclaimed  the 
Frenchman.  "  You'll  see  that  we  will,  we  must  triumph ! 
You  know  how  these  Swannocks  are  marching — crowded 
together  in  the  woods  like  pigeons.  Your  rifles  will  shoot 
down  the  leaders,  and  the  rest  and  all  the  vast  stores  of 
booty  are  yours,  to  do  with  as  you  please.  Pick  out  your 
best  chiefs,  and  we'll  select  the  ground  this  very  day." 

An  hour  later,  Pontiac,  Killbuck,  and  Shingiss  disap 
peared  in  the  woods  in  company  with  Beaujeu,  Dumas, 
and  Langlade,  gone  to  select  the  spot  most  favorable  for 
coping  with  Braddock's  army.  They  did  not  reappear 
until  late  in  the  afternoon,  having  found  the  locality  they 
desired,  and  now  both  fort  and  woods  were  alive  with  pre 
parations.  The  Indians  made  the  whole  night  hideous 
with  their  revels  and  orgies.  "Fire-water"  had  been 
freely  distributed,  and  the  "  medicine "  men  were  out  in 
force,  with  their  dances  and  sacrifices  and  incantations. 

The  next  day,  which  was  the  dread  day  of  battle,  as 
Talbot  and  Smith  stood  on  the  parapets,  they  witnessed  a 
strange  and  stirring  sight,  both  inside  and  outside  the  fort. 
Hundreds  of  whooping  and  yelling  Indians  were  gathered 
about  the  great  gate,  their  scalp-locks  all  dressed  anew ; 
their  laces  hideously  streaked  with  fresh  paint ;  every  gar 
ment  thrown  off  but  the  breech-clout,  and  all  busily  help 
ing  themselves  at  will  with  flints,  bullets,  powder,  buckshot, 
and  what  not,  from  barrels  which  had  been  rolled  out  of 
the  fort.  Those  inside  were  just  as  busy,- 

At  about  11  o'clock  everything  was  ready  for  the 
march,  and  off  they  started  ;  Beaujeu — who  had  first  gone 
piously  to  confession,  and  then  to  communion — leading  off 
with  his  regulars  and  Canadians  and  cadets  in  front,  and 
followed  by  a  motley  mob  of  yelling  and  leaping  red  devila, 


GRAND   COUNCIL — THE   CHIEFS   REFUSE. 


289 


who  fired  off  their  guns,  arid  gave  out  whoop  after  whoop, 
until  they  were  lost  in  the  woods  towards  the  hill. 

Both  Talbot  and  Smith  nearly  agreed  in  their  count, 
making  about  75  regulars,  150  Canadians,  and  630  Indians. 

An  awful  silence — a  silence  that  could  almost  be  felt — 
followed,  and  the  two  captives  sat,  quiet  and  subdued, 
speculating  on  their  own  fate,  and  the  chances  of  the  battle 
about  to  ensue,  but  both  quite  confident  of  victory.  How 
»<mld  it  be  otherwise  ? 
19 


CHAPTER  XLV. 

THE  ADVANCE  TO   THE   BATTLE-FIEJJV 

Let's  whip  these  stragglers  o'er  the  sea  again! 
Lash  hence  these  over-weening  rags  of  F1  ranee. 

Richard  tht  ITWrdl 

The  death-shot  hissing  from  afar; 
The  shock,  the  shout,  the  groan  of  war, 
Reverberate  along  that  vale, 
More  suited  to  the  shepherd's  tale; 
Though  few  the  numbers,  theirs  the  strife 
That  neither  spares  nor  speaks  for  life. 

Byron's  Giaoui 

BEHOLD,  now,  Brad  Jock's  joyful  little  army — after  hid 
ing  safely  made,  a  short  half  mile  below  Turtle  Creek,  the 
second  fording  *f  the  Monongahela — all  snugly  gathered 
on  the  first  bluf  and  under  the  grateful  shadow  of  an  open 
walnut  grove,  hard  by  Frazier's  cabin. 

It  was  a  stirring  and  exciting  scene.  Soldiers,  officers, 
artillery,  wagons,  pack-horses  with  their  batmen,  camp 
servants,  and  a  drove  of  cattle,  all  crowded  together,  and 
gradually  but  noisily  falling  into  the  rough  road  cut  fui 
them  through  the  timber  by  the  pioneers  and  carpenters. 

The  landing  had  scarcely  been  effected,  before  the  Fra- 
ziers  and  Marie  de  Bonneville — escorted  by  the  two  in 
separables,  Jack  and  the  Half-King — made  for  the  little 
cabin  which  had  so  lately  been  the  scene  of  such  a  bloody 
and  heroic  struggle.  They  found  the  premises  undisturbed. 
All  its  contents,  including  Marie's  precious  packages  of 
290 


TFJE   ADVANCE   TO   THE   BATTLE-FIELD.  291 

specimens  aiid  portfolios  of  drawings,  remained  just  aa 
left. 

The  sorrow-laden  daughter  soon  passed  to  the  margin  of 
the  wood,  where  all  that  was  mortal  of  her  dear  father  had 
been  so  hastily  buried.  The  sacred  spot,  carefully  as  had 
been  the  effort  made  to  conceal  its  every  mark  and  trace, 
could  not  long  have  escaped  the  practised  eye  of  Indians, 
but  it,  too,  was  safe  from  all  profane  touch.  Either  their 
kind  feelings  toward  the  old  naturalist,  their  belief  in  his 
visitation  from  the  Great  Spirit,  or  the  influence  of  the 
French  officers,  had  secured  the  body  from  all  sacrilege, 
and  the  weeping  Marie,  the  sounds  of  fife  and  drum  and 
the  confused  tumult  of  an  army  on  the  march  filling  her 
ears,  sat  herself  sadly  and  wearily  down  on  this,  to  her  the 
most  sacred  spot  on  earth. 

Here  Jack,  whose  work  was  in  the  very  van  of  the  march, 
left  her,  charging  her  on  no  account  to  leave  her  post,  and 
promising  his  escort  as  soon  as  the  army  had  mounted  the 
first  hills.  He,  no  more  than  any  of  us  poor,  short-sighted 
mortals,  could  forecast  the  future. 

It  was  now  past  one  o'clock  of  a  sultry  afternoon.  The 
rear  guard  had  not  entirely  crossed  the  river,  before  the 
van  had  been  pushed  forward  towards  the  hills;  Gage, 
with  his  three  hundred  videttes,  engineers,  light-horse,  and 
pioneers  in  front,  followed  at  a  little  interval  by  Sir  John 
St.  Clair's  working  party,  with  its  two  brass  six-pounders, 
and  its  tumbrils  and  tool  carts.  Their  business  it  was  to 
cut  and  prepare  the  road  marked  out  for  them  by  the  en 
gineers. 

The  march  was  to  continue  until  three,  and  then  the  last 
bivouac  before  resting  in  Fort  Duquesne,  or,  at  least,  before 
encamping  down  about  it.  On  either  flank  of  the  advance 
were  thrown  out  squads  of  videttes,  to  guard  against  sur 
prise. 

The  distant  sound  of  the  ringing  axe,  and  the  crash  of 


292  OLD    FORT    DUQUESNE. 

falling  trees,  could  be  distinctly  heard  as  the  pioneers  rapidly 
advanced — first  over  the  broad  and  gently-rising  river 
bottom,  and  then  up  the  slope  which  led  to  another  gradu 
ally-ascending  plain,  which,  in  its  turn,  rested  against  a 
liao  of  bold,  wooded  hills.  This  second  alluvial  slope  was 
more  heavily  timbered  than  the  flat  below,  while  the  under 
growth  of  vine,  thicket,  and  tall  wood  grass  became  at  every 
Btep  more  abundant  and  luxuriant. 

Adown  this  second  sloping  plain — although  at  that  time, 
and  not  until  long  after  known  to  or  even  suspected  by  the 
British — ran  several  ravines  nearly  at  right  angles  to  the 
b»*ow  of  the  hill  which  the  advance  had  just  surmounted. 
From  one  on  the  left  trickled  a  little  stream,  which  as  it 
debouched  into  the  first  bottom,  lost  all  distinctive  channel, 
and  was  so  diffused  as  to  cause  a  sort  of  marsh.  It  was  to 
avoid  the  treacherous  footing  of  this  miry  bog,  and  to  pass 
the  head  of  the  ravine  which  gave  it  birth,  that  the  army 
was  mounting  so  far  towards  the  hill-sides. 

The  ravine  on  the  extreme  right,  which  sprang  from  the 
hills  and  traversed  the  whole  second  plain,  was  both  broad 
and  deep,  its  sides  and  bottom  thickly  covered  with  huge 
trees,  and  having  an  unusually  rampant  growth  of  vines 
and  brambles,  and  sufficiently  ample  to  conceal  an  army 
of  ten  thousand  men. 

About  two  hundred  yards  from  the  line  of  hills  and  the 
same  distance  from  the  broad  ravine  just  mentioned,  com 
mences,  right  in  the  middle  of  the  plain,  and  without  any 
apparent  raison  d'etre,  a  most  singular  ditch,  with  a  depth 
and  breadth  of  a  few  feet  at  its  head,  but  increasing  soon 
to  ten  or  twelve,  and  at  that  time  overhung  and  com 
pletely  concealed  by  a  thick  growth  of  vines  and  bushes; 
of  grasses  and  trailers  and  the  wild  Indian  plum.  Even 
to  this  day  it  can  scarcely  be  perceived,  or,  at  least,  its  full 
capacity  cannot  be  fully  appreciated  until  one  is  right 
tpon  and  then  in  it.  It  is  a  most  peculiar  ditch,  and  could 


THE   ADVANCE   TO   THE   BATTLE-FIELD.  293 

not  be  better  adapted,  either  for  attack  or  defence,  were 
engineers  to  devise  and  fashion  it.  It  could  easily  conceal 
a  thousand  men. 

The  main  place  of  action  was  on  the  densely-wooded 
tract  between  these  two  ravines,  with  its  fallen  trunks,  ita 
coverts  and  thickets  of  vines  and  brush  and  grass.  The 
course  of  the  twelve-foot  wide  road  cut  through  these  leafy 
coverts,  was  not  parallel  with  either,  but  diagonal  and  turn 
ing  the  head  of  the  last  described  ravine  at  an  angle  of 
about  forty-five  degrees,  the  whole  face  and  flanks  of  the 
passing  army  being  exposed  to  a  long  line  of  the  enemy's 
fire  at  an  average  distance  of  sixty  or  seventy  yards. 

This  then  was  the  spot  so  carefully  reconnoitred  and  so 
admirably  chosen  by  the  six  officers  and  Indian  chiefs, 
whose  departure  from  the  fort  we  described  in  our  last. 
Here  was  the  slaughter-pen  they  had  so  adroitly  marked 
out  for  their  foes.  When,  or  if,  beaten  by  their  adver 
saries  at  the  river  crossing,  it  was  to  this  refuge  they  would 
retire,  and  here  would  they  prepare  their  ambush. 

Not  a  man  or  officer  of  the  British  army  ever  dreamed 
of  these  ravines,  and  never  saw  them  during  the  three 
hours  of  combat,  and  it  was  only  long  after  the  disastrous 
action,  when  reason  resumed  its  sway,  and  the  beaten, 
driven  mob  of  fugitives  considered  how  pitilessly  they  were 
pelted  and  mown  down  by  a  terrible  but  unseen  feu  d'enjer, 
they  concluded  their  wily  foe  must  have  fired  from  hid  aen 
ravines^ 

Pass  over  these  quiet,  peaceful  "  fields  "  now,  as  we  have 
but  lately  done,  part  of  them  in  grass  and  part  staked  out 
and  soon  to  be  occupied  by  the  country  seats  of  PittsDurgb 
business  men,  and  then  imagine  them  covered  with  a  som 
bre  and  luxuriant  forest,  the  ravines  choked  with  vines  and 
brush  and  under-growth,  and  the  long  rows  of  deadly  rifiea 
resting  on  their  edges  and  deliberately  sighted  by  hun 
dreds  of  naked  savages,  and  then  see  the  narrow  r./a«i 


294  OLD    FORT    DUQUESXE. 

choked  up  with  an  unsheltered  crowd  of  soldiers  and 
mounted  officers,  and  Braddock's  defeat  is  easily  accounted 
for. 

Had  the  French  hunted  for  days,  or  had  their  engineers 
the  privilege  of  selecting  a  ground  for  successful  combat 
and  arranging  artificial  ditches  for  attack  and  concealment, 
they  could  not  have  found  or  prepared  any  place  better 
fitted  for  a  dreadful  and  successful  assault,  or  one  which 
could  so  easily  have  protected  the  assailants. 

As  Braddock  and  his  aide  Washington — still  weak  and 
shattered  from  his  fever  and  unable  to  sit  his  horse  with 
out  a  pillow — were  standing  on  the  river's  bluff,  trying  to 
bring  order  out  of  confusion,  and  to  separate  the  noisy  mob 
of  soldiers,  wagoners,  artillery  and  cattle,  the  clear  ring  of 
the  distant  axe  was  suddenly  exchanged  for  the  rapid  and 
continuous  discharge  of  firearms.  The  crack  of  rifle,  fol 
lowed  by  the  roll  of  musketry,  appeared  to  be  incessant. 

"My  God,  Major !  "  cried  Braddock,  as  he  leaped  to  his 
norse,  whose  bridle  his  servant  Bishop  was  holding  near 
him,  "  the  advance  is  attacked,  and  sharply,  too !  What 
can  it  mean  ?  Mount  on  the  instant,  and  bring  me  back  a 
report  of  what's  going  on  I  Tell  St.  Clair  and  Gage  to 
throw  well  out  their  flankers  I  and  urge  Burton,  as  you 
pass,  to  hurry  forward  with  the  vanguard,  while  I  get  the 
artillery  in  motion.  Here !  you  infernal  scoundrels  of  wag 
oners  and  cattle-drivers,  get  you  out  of  the  road  with  your 
rubbish  into  the  woods  on  either  side,  and  let  the  troops 
and  guns  press  on !  Quick  step  1  Don't  dally ! " 

Washington  delayed  not  an  instant,  but  springing  upon 
his  powerful  roan,  spurred  along  under  the  trees  and  by 
the  side  of  the  road  now  choked  up  with  artillery  and  sol 
diers,  all  pressing  forward  with  utmost  speed  and  excite 
ment.  He  soon  reached  the  first  slope ;  a  few  strides  and 
his  horse  was  over  its  brow  and  on  the  plain  beyond.  The 
firing  was  now  straight  ahead  of  him.  Officers  and  men 


THE  ADVANCE  TO  THE   bATTLE-FIELD. 


295 


stood  huddled  in  groups  in  the  road ;  some  few  had  taken 
to  the  trees  on  either  side.  The  two  brass  pieces  had  just 
been  unlimbered  and  the  cannoneers  were  preparing  to 
apply  the  match.  The  attack  had  evidently  been  sudden 
and  unexpected,  and  Washington  now  saw  Gage's  advance 
doubled  back  upon  St.  Glair's  working  party,  and  for  a 
brief  space  all  was 


CHAPTER   XLVL 

THE  OPENING  OF  THE  BATTLK 

He  whistled  shrill  ; 
Prom  crag  to  crag  the  signal  flew  : 
Instant,  through  copse  and  heath  arose 
Bonnets  and  spears  and  bended  bows  ; 
On  right,  on  left,  above,  below 
Sprang  up  at  once  the  lurking  foe, 
And  every  tuft  of  grass  gave  life 
To  painted  warrior  armed  for  strife.  —  Lady  of  the  Lake. 

Consider  this  !  He  hath  been  bred  i'  the  wars 
Since  he  could  draw  a  sword,  and  is  ill  school'd 
In  bolted  language  ;  meal  and  bran  together 
He  throws  without  distinction.  — 


NOTHING  could  be  seen  in  front  but  the  flashes  of  the 
enemy's  guns  and  the  shadowy  forms  here  and  there  of 
French  and  Indians  as  they  glided  from  tree  to  tree  ;  noth 
ing  heard  but  the  crack  of  rifles,  the  noise  of  muskets,  the 
piercing  yells  and  whoops  of  the  savages,  who  seemed  to 
fill  the  woods  and  to  be  working  around  in  a  semicircle. 

"Ho!  Sir  John,"  exclaimed  Washington,  as  St.  Clair 
foaming  with  rage  and  mad  with  excitement  approached 
to  form  and  urge  on  the  men.  "  What's  all  this  ?  The 
General  bids  you  halt  where  you  are  ;  throw  your  flankers 
we!l  out,  and  hold  your  own  —  if  hotly  pressed  —  until  Bur 
ton  comes  up.  What's  the  nature  of  the  attack  ?  " 

"  Fierce  as  furnace  fire  and  hot  as  d  -  n,*'  answered 
the  fiery  Sir  John.  "Harry  Gordon  was  in  the  very 
296 


THE  OPENING  OF  THE  BATTLE.         297 

front  marking  out  the  road  when,  upon  hearing  a  rush 
ing  noise  ahead  and  looking  through  the  trees,  he  saw 
a  pack  of  French  and  Indians  on  the  run,  a  gaily-dressed 
officer,  with  a  silver  gorget  on  his  bosom,  leading  the  way 
with  long  kangaroo  leaps.  Soon  as  they  got  within  mus 
ket  eliot,  the  cursed  Frencher  stopped  short  in  his  tracks, 
and  waving  his  plumed  hat  above  his  head  and  then 
stretching  his  arms  to  either  side,  his  pack  of  red  devila 
scattered  to  right  and  left,  crouched  down  and  slunk  away 
behind  trees,  trunks,  and  what-not,  until,  by  heavens,  they 
had  completely  vanished — not  a  painted  head  or  hide  of 
one  of  them  to  be  seen — the  skulking  cowards !  The  first 
we  knew,  a  pitiless  hail  of  bullets  rained  upon  us,  amid  the 
most  horrible  screeches  and  yells  and  infernal  noises  sure 
ever  mortal  heard.  I'm  blessed,  Major,  if  I'm  used  to  this 
kind  of  fighting — don't  know  what  to  make  of  it.  Our 
flankers  have  all  run  in,  and  the  carpenters,  or  what's  left 
of  them,  are  huddled  down  the  road  like  so  many  sheep 
worried  by  wolves,  and  the  troops  are  fairly  appalled  by 
these  screeching  demons.  For  God's  sake,  hurry  old  Brad- 
dock  up !  tell  him  we've  got  the  whole  French-Indian  army 
in  our  front,  and  will  have  to  fight  our  way  to  the  fort 
step  by  step." 

Washington,  after  a  few  more  brief,  rapid  questions,  took 
in  the  whole  situation  and  turned  his  horse's  head.  He 
had  gone  but  a  few  steps  when  he  saw  Jack  and  the  Half- 
King  a  few  yards  on  one  side  of  the  road,  each  peering 
from  behind  his  tree  and  trying  to  catch  sight  of  something 
to  shoot  at. 

"  Halloo !  Jack  and  Scarooyaddy.  You  there,  my  braves? 
Where  are  the  other  Indians  ?  They  must  scatter  in  the 
woods  and  try  and  find  out  where  those  devils  are  hiding 
and  what's  their  force.  I'll  have  Braddock  here  in  a  flash." 
Just  then  a  crack  was  heard  and  a  bullet  whizzed  by,  going 
through  and  through  the  lappel  of  Washington's  coat. 


298  OLD    FORT    DUQUESNE. 

"  Aha !  Major,"  cried  Jack  quick  as  thought,  as  he 
raised  and  fired  his  rifle,  "  that's  just  the  chance  I've  been 
waiting  for.  I've  watched  that  skulking  Shawnee  now  for 
over  a  minute.  I  knew  he  wouldn't  let  you  pass  without  a 
shot.  That's  their  game,  the  cunning  varmints.  Pick  off 
the  mounted  leaders,  and  the  rest  comes,  of  course.  Don't 
stay  to  see  where  I  hit  him,  Major.  Old  '  Black  Rifle'  is 
certain  as  death.  Hurry  up  the  troops !  we'll  need  'em  all, 
for  the  savages  are  in  full  feather  in  front ;  if  there's  one, 
there's  a  thousand,  twisting  and  creeping  and  gliding  ahout 
among  those  trunks.  Halloo !  there's  Yaddy's  rifle.  Hit 
him  again,  by  Jupiter,  and  a  Frencher,  too !  No  bark 
without  its  bite  is  the  plan  we're  acting  on." 

Washington  had  not  far  to  go.  Braddock,  finding  the 
uproar  not  only  continuing  but  even  increasing  in  front, 
nad  raged  through  the  whole  army  like  mad,  and  could  not 
wait  for  his  aid's  report.  Ordering  Burton  to  detach  eight 
hundred  men  and  hurry  forward  with  all  possible  speed,  he 
left  Sir  Peter  Halket  in  the  rear  with  full  four  hundred  to 
protect  the  baggage.  He  then  swore  and  stormed  along 
the  whole  artillery  line,  and  pushed  the  guns  forward  as 
fast  as  possible. 

Washington  met  the  General,  his  eyes  fairly  aflame  and 
with  spurs  buried  deep  into  his  horse's  sides,  right  on  the 
brow  of  the  hill.  Gage's  cannon  at  that  moment  had  just 
filled  the  woods  with  their  resounding  roar,  which  was 
followed  with  cheer  after  cheer  from  the  British,  who 
were  standing  in  a  confused  crowd  in  the  middle  and 
on  the  sides  of  the  road,  loading  and  firing  as  fast  as  they 
could. 

The  terrible,  leaden  hail,  which  had  been  so  steadily 
raining  on  the  English  and  shattering  their  columns,  now 
Blackened  for  a  while.  The  British  then  advanced  on  the 
French  in  front,  pouring  in  a  hot  fire,  though  very  few  of 
the  enemy  could  be  seen.  As  they  drew  near,  another 


THE   OPENING   OF   THE   BATTLE.  299 

rtaggering  discharge  met  them,  appearing  to  coine,  as  it 
were,  right  out  of  the  ground. 

The  British  rallied  again,  and  opened  a  dreadful  storm 
of  grape  and  musketry,  sweeping  away  everything  living 
before  them,  but  the  grievous  misfortune  was,  that  about 
the  only  living  things  were  the  trees  of  the  woods.  Beau- 
jeu,  the  chief  leader  of  the  foe,  and  several  others,  were 
seen  to  fall,  while  the  Indians,  unaccustomed  to  the  appal 
ling  roar  of  artillery  and  the  loud  huzzas  of  the  soldiery, 
appeared  to  waver,  and  for  the  moment  gave  way.  A  well- 
pushed  bayonet  charge  just  then  would  have  put  them  to 
remediless  flight. 

Observing,  however,  that  the  French  and  Canadian 
still  held  their  ground  in  the  direct  front;  much  exas 
perated  by  the  fall  of  their  loved  Beaujeu,  and  urged  on 
to  revenge  by  Dumas,  Lauglade  and  de  Lignery,  they  took 
fresh  heart,  and  returned  to  their  trees  and  ravines, 
through  and  along  which  they  extended  more  and  more. 

It  was  just  at  this  critical  moment  that  Braddock's 
horse  leaped  into  the  road,  and,  struck  instantly  by  a 
bullet  in  front,  fell  on  the  very  leap,  throwing  the  General 
violently  to  the  ground.  The  grim  and  infuriated  old 
warrior  staggered  to  his  feet,  sword  in  hand,  and  glared 
around  like  a  lioness  robbed  of  her  whelps.  His  eyes 
fairly  shot  flames,  and  his  face  grew  livid  with  rage  as  he 
Ba^y  his  carefully-drilled  veterans  standing  in  groups  and 
vithout  order,  all  appearing  to  tire  at  random,  while  many 
werp  shooting  into  the  trees  above  them,  as  if  their  foea 
were  birds  in  the  branches. 

To  increase  his  disgustful  rage,  just  at  this  moment 
3age's  advance  gave  way  entirely.  The  unseen  enemy 
had  worked  themselves  along  the  ravines  on  both  flanks, 
and,  from  behind  the  dense  undergrowth  and  tall  grass 
which  fringed  them,  poured  in  a  moat  galling  fire,  coolly 
ind  securely  picking  off  officer  after  officer. 


300  OLD   FORT   DUQUEStfE. 

Colonel  Burton's  command  had  just  come  upon  the 
ground,  and  were  forming,  as  well  as  could  be  under  such 
a  murderous  hail  of  lead  and  in  such  a  narrow  roa<l 
when  crowding  down  upon  them  came  Gage's  and  St, 
Glair's  shattered  columns  trying  to  get  into  their  reur, 
and  mixing  the  two  regiments  in  inextricable  confusion. 

Then  it  was  that  Braddock  stormed  around  with  a  rage 
and  an  indignation  which  was  almost  sublime  from  its 
intensity.  Turning  sharply  on  Gage  : 

"  How's  this,  craven  sir !  would  ye  so  basely  dishonor 
your  king  and  the  duke  ?  God's  wrath !  is  this  the  way 
ye've  been  taught  to  fight !  By  the  Eternal,  but  I'll  break 
your  disgraced  sword  where  you  sit  in  saddle  1  Curses  on 
you  all  for  a  set  of  white-livered  cowards!  You  look 
more  like  a  flock  of  silly  sheep  set  on  by  hounds  than 
drilled  soldiers.  For  shame !  for  shame !  Fall  in  ranks, 
every  mother's  son  of  you,  and  come  out  from  behind 
those  trees!  By  the  great  God  above  us,  men,  but  I'll 
cut  down  with  my  sword  the  first  soldier,  British  or  Ameri 
can,  who  dare  skulk  behind  a  cover!  Out  with  you, 
cowards !  "  and  suiting  the  action  to  the  word,  Braddock 
leaped  to  the  road  side  and  actually  hit  with  the  flat  of 
his  sword  several  whom  he  found  behind  the  trees,  while 
others  he  pushed  into  the  road. 

"  General,"  sullenly  expostulated  Gage,  "  these  insults 
are  undeserved.  We  can't  fight  a  deadly  foe  who  sur 
rounds  us  on  three  sides  but  whom  we  can't  see.  The 
officers  are  falling  like  leaves  all  about  you.  The  men 
are  plainly  panic-stricken.  If  allowed  to  get  behind  what 
ever  cover  offers,  they  can  pick  up  heart  and  reform  when 
the  enemy  is  found.  If  not,  we'll  all  be  killed,  officers 
and  men." 

"  Killed ! "  hoarsely  roared  Braddock,  while  mounting 
his  second  horse.  "  And  why  not  ?  Better  die  with  naked 
front  to  the  foe  than  blink  and  skulk  like  hares  in  theii 


THE   OPENING    OF   THE   BATTLE.  301 

'forms.'  Get  behind  trees  1  Oh,  that  ever  I'd  live  to  hear 
a  British  officer  and  a  nobleman's  son,  too,  give  voice  to 
Buch  dastard  words !  Officers,  I  command  you  to  separate 
yon  frightened  mob !  Advance  the  regimental  colors  1  Set 
up  ra  .lying  points !  Tell  the  men  off  into  platoons,  and 
hunt  up  the  enemy  in  that  way  1  Major  Washington,  bid 
the  rest  of  the  artillery  advance  and  open  with  grape !  " 

The  word  had  scarce  left  his  lips,  before  his  second  horse 
was  laid  low  with  a  bullet,  and  Braddock  was  again  on  his 
feet  in  the  road,  which  did  not  go  far  to  improve  his  tem 
per.  Here  Washington  ventured  to  observe,  quietly  and 
in  low  tones :  "  General,  since  the  enemy's  evidently  in 
great  strength  ahead  and  on  each  flank,  would  it  not  be 
well  to  find  out  exactly  where  he  is,  and  how  he  manages 
to  so  hide  himself?  If  we  could  retire  the  troops  a  little 
out  of  fire,  beat  up  these  woods  with  the  bayonet,  and  re 
form—" 

"  Retire !  retire  out  of  fire,  and  before  a  d — d  dastardly 
foe  who  dare  not  uncover  himself! "  shouted  Braddock. 
"  Major  Washington,  you  are  my  aide-de-camp  to  carry  or 
ders,  not  to  give  them !  Retire  is  a  round,  well-picked 
word  !  It  may  suit  your  American  militia,  but,  sir,  it  is  a 
disgraceful  word  for  an  officer  holding  his  Majesty's  com 
mission,  either  to  speak  or  to  hear !  It  was  by  retiring,  as 
fou  well  call  it,  that  Forts  Duquesne  and  Necessity  were 
given  up  by  you  last  year  to  the  French  !  Damme,  sir,  it 
has  been  so  much  retiring  that  brings  me  and  my  army 
on  this  field  !  Here,  orderly,  bring  me  another  mount!  " 

Washington's  pale  face  flushed  up  with  indignation  at 
this  stinging,  but  totally  undeserved  taunt,  the  more  gall 
ing  since  Braddock  had  repeatedly  given  his  approval  of 
the  '54  campaign.  Seeing  the  General's  obstinate  temper, 
and  knowing  he  had  no  right  to  offer  advice,  he  put  spurs 
to  his  horse  and  was  soon  over  the  hill  to  hurry  up  the  ar 
tillery. 


302  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 

"  That's  right,  officers ! "  hoarsely  shouted  Braddoek, 
soon  as  he  was  again  mounted.  "  Tell  off  your  men  into 
small  parties,  advance  on  a  double-quick,  and  drive  those 
d — d  skulking  vagabonds  from  their  hiding  places !  " 

It  was  useless.  By  this  time  the  confident  and  whooping 
savages  had  enveloped  both  flanks,  while  a  most  galling 
concentric  fire  was  poured  in  upon  the  panic-stricken  army, 
which  was  particularly  severe  upon  the  officers. 

In  vain  these  officers,  with  unparalleled  bravery,  put 
themselves  repeatedly  at  the  head  of  small  parties  and 
advanced  with  cheers  upon  the  hidden  foe.  Distinguished 
by  their  horses  and  uniforms,  they  were  simply  sacrificed. 

In  the  dark  and  narrow  road,  surrounded  on  all  sides 
by  gloomy  trees  and  dense  thickets,  were  crowded  close 
together  the  panic-stricken  wretches,  appalled  at  the  fatal 
fires  of  foes  whom  they  never  saw.  Many  fired  away  ink 
the  air ;  many  more  brought  down  their  own  men. 

Wherever  a  puff  of  smoke  was  seen,  off  went  the  soldiers 
muskets ;  while  all  around,  securely  hidden  in  those  mys 
terious,  unsuspected  ravines  lay  a  screeching,  murderous, 
insatiate  foe,  their  rifles  or  muskets  loaded  with  both  bullet 
and  buckshot,  peering  through  grass  and  bushes,  resting 
them  on  the  brinks,  gathering  more  and  more  confidence 
•with  each  fatal  volley,  and  making  the  forest  echo  with 
demoniac  yells  and  whoops  and  savage  clamor. 

Occasionally  a  naked  and  hideously-painted  savage 
would  break  from  cover,  and  rush  forward  with  fearful 
screech,  to  secure  the  scalp  of  some  officer  he  had  shot 
Then  would  follow  a  volley  of  musketry  from  the  poor 
soldiers,  killing  or  wounding  their  own  fellows  more  than 
damaging  the  enemy. 


CHAPTER  XLVH. 

tiR  FETER  HALKET'S  DEATH — FEARFUL  SLAUGHTER. 

Under  an  oak  whose  antique  root  peeps  out 
Upon  the  brook  that  brawls  along  the  wood : 
To  the  which  place  a  poor  sequester'd  stag, 
That  from  the  hunter's  aim  had  ta'en  a  hurt, 
Did  come  to  languish — As  You  Like  It. 

One  effort — one — to  break  the  circling  host; 
They  form — unite — charge — waver — all  is  lost  I 
Within  a  narrow  ring  compressed,  beset, 
llopeless,  not  heartless,  strive  and  struggle  yet; 
Oh  1  now  they  fight  in  firmest  file  no  more; 
Hemmed  ill — cut  off— cleft  down  and  trampled  o'er. 

Hyron's  Cortatr. 

WHAT  followed  deserves  not  the  name  of  battle ;  it  was 
simply  a  horrible  slaughter.  Once  Colonel  Burton  man 
aged  to  gather  a  hundred  men  and  advanced  towards  a 
rising  ground  in  front,  the  very  centre  of  the  French  posi 
tion,  but  upon  his  being  disabled  by  a  rifle  ball,  the  rest 
retired  precipitately. 

By  this  time  Sir  Peter  Halket  came  up  with  reinforce 
ments,  but  too  late  for  good.  The  men  were  hopelessly 
disordered  and  panic-stricken,  firing  off  all  their  ammuni 
tion,  quarrelling  with  their  brave  officers,  who  threw  thcin- 
Belves  from  their  horses  and  led  them  repeatedly  on  foot, 
but  only  to  be  swept  into  eternity. 

The  only  thing  for  Braddock  to  do  when  he  found  him 
self  caught  in  this  horrid  slaughter-pen,  was,  manifestly,  tc 

303 


304  OLD   FORT   DUQUESKE. 

retire  his  forces  while  he  had  them  yet  under  control; 
throw  out  scouting  parties  to  beat  up  the  enemy's  position ; 
bring  up  his  artillery  to  the  ends  of  the  ravines  and  thor 
oughly  rake  them  with  grape  and  canister,  or  to  rout  out 
the  securely-hidden  foe  with  the  bayonet.  Indians  have 
never  yet  been  found  able  to  withstand  a  bayonet  charge. 
The  cold  steel  at  close  quarters  demoralizes.  They  quiver, 
break  and  fly. 

This  was  what  both  Halket  and  Washington  urged  him 
to  do,  but  to  no  purpose.  He  raged  along  the  road  like  a 
fury ;  drove  back  his  men  by  the  sword  and  seemed  deter 
mined  to  overcome  by  mere  force  of  drill  and  obstinacy. 
Indeed,  it  is  uncertain  whether  he  now  could  have  executed 
the  mano3uvre.  No  soldiers — not  even  Cumberland's  vet 
erans — could  long  withstand  a  deadly  and  concentred  fire 
from  front  and  both  flanks. 

The  fact  that  the  fatal  flashes  and  puffs  of  smoke  and 
volleys  seemed  to  come  right  out  of  the  ground  and  from 
unseen  foes,  while  the  whole  air  and  woods  around  rang 
full  of  savage  yells  and  horrible  screechings,  completed  the 
demoralization.  Many  afterwards  declared  that  during 
the  whole  three  hours'  contest  they  had  never  once  seen  a 
foe;  while  others  would  not  assert  that  they  had  seen  over 
half  a  dozen.  It  is  only  wonder  that  soldiers  so  wretchedly 
posted  and  so  badly  commanded,  could  stand  it  as  long  as 
they  did.  (See  Appendix  V.) 

The  provincials  suffered  as  much  as  the  British  soldiers. 
Whenever  and  wherever  they  could,  they  took  to  the 
trees.  It  is  even  asserted,  and  we  think  it  probable,  that 
some  of  the  officers  who,  by  Braddock's  explicit  com 
mand,  attempted  to  beat  back  into  the  road  the  men 
»rho  had  thus  sought  shelter  behind  trees,  were  shot  by 
their  own  men. 

In  one  of  the  pauses  of  this  one-sided  conflict,  Washing 
ton,  who  had  been  kept  busy  carrying  the  General's  orden 


HALKET'S  DEATH — FEAEFITL  SLAUGHTER.        305 

• — the  other  aides,  Orme  and  Morris,  having  been  wounded 
— saw  Col.  Halket,  grim  and  weary-looking,  standing  dis 
mounted  under  a  huge  oak,  and  leaning  heavily  against  its 
massive  trunk.  Hastening  up  and  out  a  little  from  the 
fire,  he  anxiously  inquired, 

"  I  trust,  Sir  Peter,  you  are  not  very  badly  hurt  ?  " 

"Na,  na,  Geordie;  but  Ise  gotten  eneuch.  'Tia  joost 
aboon  my  baldric.  Wha  culd  luke  to  go  thro'  siccau  an 
awsome  day  wi'out  scaur  or  scaith.  I  ha'e  fear  Ise  ta'en 
a  strong  grippit  o'  death.  I  am  sair,  sair  forfoughten,  but, 
ne'er  fear,  mon,  but  wha'  the  auld  Sir  Peter  will  e'er  pre 
sent  a  heckle  to  his  foes." 

"  Oh,  'tis  not  so  bad  as  that,  Colonel,"  said  Washington ; 
"  but  you,  like  the  rest  of  us,  have  received  your  baptism 
of  fire.  'Tis  a  gory  field,  and  the  end's  not  yet." 

"D'ye  mind,  Major,  the  ' secon-sight '  I  tauld  ye  of  yes 
treen  and  the  vision  of  bluid  ?  Said  I  not  recht  ? — but, 
na'e  ye  seen  Jamie,  laddie?" 

"  I  have,  Sir  Peter ;  there  he  stands,  and  unhurt" 

"  'Tis  strange,  verra  strange.  'Tis  the  bairn  Francis, 
and  not  James  that's  hurt  and  ta'en  to  the  rear,  alang  wi' 
Sir  John  Sinclair,  Col.  Burton,  Gladwin,  and  mony  ithers. 
Oh,  but  this  is  a  sorra  day !  Braddock's  joost  lost  his 
fourth  horse.  The  fule  carle  thinks  he's  fightin'  on  the 
broad  plains  o'  Flanders.  'Tis  eneuch  amaist  to  drive  one 
distraught  to  see  him  trying  to  wheel  and  manoeuvre  a 
whail  army,  shoulther  to  shoulther,  in  a  twal-fut  road. 
I  ha'e  beggit  him  to  let  his  men  tak  to  the  woods,  but 
the  dour  deevil  wi'  not.  He's  clean  daft,  Geordie,  clean 
daft." 

"  Well,  Colonel,"  said  Washington,  "  no  use  to  discuss 
the  General  now.  You  need  immediate  attention.  I'll 
send  some  soldiers  to  take  you  to  the  rear." 

Washington  had  scarce  gone  a  hundred  paces  before  a 
bullet,  sped  by  an  Indian  riile  from  the  ravine,  struck  Hal« 
20 


306  OLD    FORT    DUQUESNE. 

ket  straight  through  the  heart.  Just  as  he  was  falling,  hu 
eon  James  rushed  forward  and  caught  him  in  his  arms 
He,  too,  was  at  the  same  instant  mortally  struck,  and  both 
fell  together,  locked  in  each  other's  embrace,  and  this  was 
the  last  of  the  old  Scotch  nobleman. 

The  two  bodies  lay,  just  where  they  fell,  for  years,  through 
summer's  heat  and  winter's  snow — "'mid  all  the  wreck  of 
the  spiteful  elements."  We  will  hereafter  relate  how,  three 
years  after,  two  skeletons  were  found  locked  together,  and 
in  how  singular  a  manner  the  young  Sir  Peter  Halket 
identified  them  as  those  of  his  father  and  brother. 

The  Provincials — the  American  militia  of  whom  Brad- 
dock  was  so  contemptuous — were  among  the  last  to  yield 
the  hill.  Among  them  were  Jack,  Gist,  Waggoner, 
Scarooyaddy  and  others  of  the  more  cool  and  collected 
scouts  and  rangers,  who  had,  wherever  they  could  obtain 
a  "  coign  of  vantage,"  kept  up  a  desultory  fire  upon  the 
foe. 

About  this  time  Jack,  his  face  all  begrimed  with  powder, 
his  bullets  almost  all  spent,  his  eyes  glowering  and  teeth 
clenched  in  a  sort  of  bull-dog  fixedness,  was  sullenly  retir 
ing  from  tree  to  tree  hotly  pushed  by  some  Ottawa  Indians, 
when  he  noted  the  approach  of  our  old  acquaintance,  Cap 
tain  Waggoner  of  the  Virginia  Rangers,  with  what  was 
left  of  his  men.  They  were  doggedly  retreating  step  by 
step,  casting  many  an  anxious  look  behind. 

"  Waggoner,"  exclaimed  Jack,  "'  tis  a  crying  shame  that 
we  should  stay  here  and  be  butchered  for  the  mad  whims 
of  a  man,  who  may  be  as  brave  as  Julius  Caesar  but  who's 
also  as  crazy  as  a  loon.  Now,  I've  been  studying  Ihe  lay 
of  these  lurking  red  devils,  and  from  the  line  of  their  fire, 
I  feel  certain  their  whole  position  can  be  turned  from  that 
huge  fallen  tree  yonder,  lying  just  on  the  rise  of  the  hill. 
What  say  you  ?  Can  you  take  your  men,  and  let  us  run 
for  it  ?  " 


HALKET'S  DEATH — FEARFU^  SLACGIITER.        307 

"  Good !  Jack.  Give  me  your  hand  on't,  old  hickory  ! 
I'm  with  you  till  death.  I  can  depend  on  what  is  left  of 
my  company  to  a  man,  and  think  I  can  get  enough  ran 
gers  from  Dobb's,  Dagworthy's,  Stevens'  and  Peyrouies' 
companies  to  make  the  attempt.  Ho ! "  he  shouted  in 
clear,  ringing  tones,  "  American  rangers,  stay  one  moment ! 
We've  tried  fighting  Indians  on  the  British  plan,  and  if  \ve 
go  on  one  short  half  hour  longer,  we'll  not  have  a  whole 
scalp  left.  Captain  Jack  proposes  to  run  forward  and 
take  possession  of  yonder  huge  log,  which  commands 
the  enemy's  position  and  will  give  us  complete  pro 
tection,  and  we'll  route  those  cursed,  yelping,  barking 
devils  down  there,  quicker'n  you  could  scrunch  a  nest  of 
rattlesnakes.  All  who  want  to  redeem  this  disgraceful 
day  and  strike  at  least  one  stout  blow  for  victory,  follow 
me!" 

A  hearty  cheer  rang  out,  and  about  eighty  American 
rangers,  including,  also,  Jack,  Scarooyaddy,  Alaquippa'a 
two  sous,  Gist,  Fairfax,  and  two  other  friendly  Indians, 
agreed  to  follow. 

"  Now,  lads,  all  load  up,  and  sling  each  man  of  you 
around  his  tree  and  draw  their  fire :  " 

"  So ; "  as  a  brisk  volley  came  from  the  foe.  "  Now  for 
it,"  and  Jack  and  Waggoner  leading,  they  darted  rapidly 
forward,  rifles  cocked,  all  ready  in  trail  and  losing  only 
three  men  by  the  way. 

"  Now !  "  shouted  Waggoner,  "  spread  yourselves  along 
snug  and  fire  one  volley  all  together,  and  then  every  man 
load  and  fire  at  will,  and  if  we  don't  have  some  little  to 
boast  of  this  day,  my  name's  not  Tom  Waggoner.  Look ! 
Jack ;  look!  D'ye  see  the  painted  slippery  devils  wriggling 
and  gliding  away !  Aha !  we've  got  'em,  every  pop !  Now 
for  it,  boys !  Quick  !  quick !  before  you  lose  'em.  Ready  I 
Take  aim !  Fire  !  " — and  a  tremendous  volley  and  red  line 
of  flame  leaped  from  their  rifles. 


808  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 

"Ha!"  yelled  Jack,  springing  to  his  feet  with  excite 
ment,  as  he  saw  a  whole  raft  of  Indians  break  cover. 
"  One  more  like  that  and  we'll  have  scalps  enough  to  buy 
a  farm  apiece.  Hurrah  !  boys ;  hur — " 

His  words  were  drowned  by  the  roar  of  guns  and  a  gen 
eral  discharge  of  musketry  behind  him,  and  at  least  forty 
of  the  eighty  fell  killed  and  wounded  by  the  fire  from  the 
mob  of  British  regulars  in  their  rear,  who  loaded  and  fired 
wherever  they  saw  a  flash  or  smoke. 

"  My  God  !  "  gasped  Jack,  the  first  to  recover  from  the 
dreadful  shock  which  seemed  to  paralyze  and  hold  speech 
less  all  that  were  left.  "  Shot  by  our  own  men,  as  I'm  a  liv 
ing  sinner!  Worse  than  murder,  by  heavens!  Come, 
Waggoner  and  Yaddy,  it's  no  use.  The  day's  lost  when 
British  soldiers  can  thus  slaughter  their  betters." 

Another  volley  was  poured  ou  their  doomed  heads,  until 
fifty  out  of  the  gallant  little  baud  were  either  killed  or 
wounded,  and  the  rest  were  put  to  a  hasty  flight.  Their 
rage,  disgust  and  indignation  can  be  imagiued  but  not 
described.  * 

Braddock,  almost  all  his  best  officers  either  killed  or 
wounded,  and  all  the  ammunition  shot  away,  found  it  now 
almost  impossible  even  to  effect  a  safe  or  orderly  retreat. 
The  Indians,  having  little  more  to  fear  from  the  army  on 
the  hill  plain,  had  now  worked  down  the  ravines  until  they 
appeared  on  the  first  "  bottom,"  and  commenced  to  attack 
the  baggage. 

The  flank  parties  posted  for  its  security  all  but  one  ran 
in.  A  great  number  of  horses  and  some  drivers  were  shot 
down,  while  the  rest,  cutting  loose  the  best  horses  in  the 


*  This  awful  disaster  to  Waggoner's  volunteer  movement,  the  only 
one  of  the  day  which  promised  success,  is  historical ;  indeed  the  whol« 
account  of  this  battle  is  based  on  information  carefully  gathered  fro» 
every  possible  source,  and  can  be  taken  as  reliable. 


HALKET'S  DEATH — FEARFUL  SLAUGHTER. 


309 


teams,  mounted  and  were  off.  The  cannon  did  some 
service,  and,  commanded  and  sometimes  even  served  by 
Washington  himself,  had  for  sometime  kept  off  the  foe,  but 
the  spot  was  so  woody  that  very  little  execution  could  be 
done. 


CHAPTER  XLVIII. 
BRADDOCK'S  RETKEAT  AND  DEATH. 

So  fall  my  visioned  splendors  to  the  earth, 
And  all  our  schemes,  so  grand  and  absolute, 
Melt  like  a  bubble  touched  by  some  child's  hand. 
Out  upon  lifel  We  are  the  jest  and  sport 
Of  every  breeze  that  blows — Peterson. 

Jusr  at  this  juncture,  Braddock  himself,  who  had  l A<\ 
five  horses  killed  under  him  and  whose  clothes  had  oeeii 
riddled  with  bullets,  received  a  mortal  wound  while  stand 
ing  beneath  a  large  tree  on  the  brow  of  the  second  rise. 
The  ball  passed  through  his  right  arm,  lodging  deep  in  his 
lungs.  The  order  he  was  just  giving  was  left  unfinished  on 
his  lips.  Falling  from  his  horse,  there  the  brave  but 
unfortunate  General  lay,  with  but  a  few  friends  around 
him  and  all  his  drilled  veterans  flying  off  in  headlong, 
disgraceful  flight.  "  They  ran,"  wrote  Washington  in  his 
first  letter  ai'ter  the  battle,  "  as  sheep  pursued  by  the  dogs, 
and  it  was  impossible  to  rally  them." 

It  is  related  by  George  Croghau,  the  famous  Indian  In 
terpreter,  that  Braddock,  unwilling  to  survive  the  disgrace 
of  his  defeat,  disgusted  at  his  desertion  by  the  famous 
soldiers  "  who  had  served  with  the  Duke,"  and  probably 
tormented  by  the  pains  from  his  wound,  refused  to  be  carried 
:rom  the  field,  insisted  upon  being  left  alone,  and  finally 
tried  to  possess  himself  of  Croghan's  pistol,  wherewith  to 
nake  an  end  of  himself. 
S10 


CAPTAIN  ORME. 


BRADDOCK'S  RETREAT  AND  DEATH.  311 

Be  this  as  it  may,  Captain  Orme,  wounded  as  he  was, 
jfl'ercd  sixty  guineas  to  any  of  the  regulars  who  would 
carry  him  off  the  field,  but  in  vain.  It  was  a  Sauve  qui 
pent  rout  with  the  regulars  and  "devil  take  the  hindmost." 

Captain  Stewart,  of  Virginia,  commander  of  the  body 
guard  of  light  horse,  and  Braddoek's  own  "aide"  Captain 
Onne,  carried  the  dying  General  off  the  field,  put  him  in  a 
tumbril,  then  upon  a  fresh  horse,  and  thus  the  old  veteran 
was  borne  from  the  scene  of  his  defeat.  It  was  a  custom  in 
those  days  for  every  officer  to  carry  a  sash  of  scarlet,  silken 
net- work,  with  which  to  bear  him,  if  wounded,  from  the 
field.  The  sash  in  which  Braddock  was  this  day  carried, 
the  date  of  its  manufacture  (1707)  and  the  initials  E.  B. 
wrought  in  the  woof,  and  the  blood-red  stains  upon  its  net 
ting  still  visible,  is  said  to  be  yet  preserved  in  the  family 
of  the  late  President  Taylor. 

The  fall  of  the  General  destroyed  all  semblance  of 
further  opposition.  Every  aide  but  Washington  and  every 
field  officer  was  struck  down.  About  nine  hundred  out  of 
the  fourteen  hundred  men,  and  sixty-three  out  of  the 
eighty-six  officers  were  either  killed  or  wounded,  and  the 
rest  scarce  waited  for  the  drums  to  sound  the  retreat.  All, 
all  was  abandoned !  Horses,  cattle,  wagons,  artillery, 
military  chest,  personal  baggage,  every  thing — and  what 
was  worse,  almost  every  person  who  was  badly  wounded.  * 

*  There  were  two  exceptions  worthy  of  speeiaJ  note.  Captain  Treby 
of  the  44th  was  so  desperately  wounded  as  to  be  unable  even  to  crawl 
to  the  nearest  bushes  to  avoid  the  pursuing  Indians.  While  the  herd 
of  fugitives  went  trooping  b.y,  his  woful  situation  arrested  the  atten 
tion  of  a  gentleman  volunteer  named  Farrel,  who  placed  the  sufferer  on 
his  own  back  and  so  carried  him  until  out  of  danger.  At  the  first  fire, 
Captain  John  Conyngharn's  horse  was  shot  down  and  he  himself  very 
severely  wounded.  Falling  under  his  horse,  and  being  unable  to  rescue 
himself,  his  soldiers  "  for  the  love  they  bore  him,"  rushed  to  his  rescue 
and  finally  carried  him  in  triumph  to  a  place  of  safety,  athough  many 
were  shot  dead  ia  the  attempt. 


812  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 

Down,  down  the  fugitive  mob  rushed  to  the  ford,  ovei 
which  they  had  passed  with  such  pageantry  and  euthu« 
eiasm  in  the  morning.  The  whole  route  was  strewn  with 
guns,  military  trappings,  and  even  clothing — all  which 
could  impede  flight.  About  fifty  Indians  pursued  even  to 
the  Monougahela,  tomahawking  several  in  the  passage. 

It  was  well  that  the  savages,  glutted  with  blood, 
ladened  down  with  scalps,  or  having  a  wholesome  fear  of 
Dunbar's  army  still  in  the  rear,  turned  aside  from  tha 
monotony  of  slaughter  to  the  work  of  gathering  the  rich 
spoils  of  the  disastrous  field.  Had  they  chosen  to  pursue 
across  the  river,  or  had  they  gone  up  the  same  bank  and 
waited  at  the  other  ford,  two  miles  above,  for  the  poor, 
panting,  exhausted,  and  panic-stricken  fugitives,  as  they 
crossed  the  stream  for  the  fourth  time  that  day,  but  few 
would  have  been  left  to  tell  the  sad  and  disgraceful  tale. 

But  happily,  and  it  is  a  well-attested  historical  fact,  the 
French  and  Indians  were  about  as  much  frightened  as  the 
British.  After  hastily  tearing  away  the  scalps  from  both 
living  and  dead  lying  on  the  fatal  field ;  after  having 
loaded  themselves  and  the  captive  beasts  with  all  manner 
of  spoils  and  killed  all  the  horses  they  could  not  take  with 
them,  they  spiked  the  British  artillery  and  burst  all  the 
shell,  and  only  followed  the  route  of  the  British  fugitives 
when  they  learned  from  deserters  that  the  panic  with  Dun- 
bar's  reserves  was  even  greater  than  with  the  army  in  the 
field. 

Scarcely  believing  that  this  disgrace,  which  was  at  the 
time  considered  throughout  the  country  as  far  greater, 
more  inexcusable,  and  more  disastrous  in  its  consequences 
than  even  the  defeat  and  flight  of  Braddock's  army,  could 
be  possible,  Dumas — Beaujeu's  successor — then  sent  a  force 
to  follow  the  route,  and  to  destroy  all  that  "  Dunbai  the 
Tardy,"  in  his  pusillanimity,  had  left. 

This  headlong,  disgraceful  flight  is  an  unwelcome  theoo^. 


BRADDOCK'S  RETREAT  AND  DEATH.  313 

and  not  being  directly  connected  with  our  story,  we  care 
not  to  dwell  on  it,  except  to  say  that  about  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  on  the  other  side  of  the  river,  a  hundred  men 
were  prevailed  upon  to  make  a  brief  stand  at  a  favorable 
point.  Braddock  and  some  wounded  officers  remained 
there  an  hour  or  so,  but  soon  all  the  soldiers  sneaked  off, 
and  Washington,  sick,  exhausted  and  fever-stricken  as  he 
was,  and  having  so  lately  passed  through  a  most  terrible 
ordeal,  with  two  horses  shot  under  him  and  four  bullets 
through  his  coat,  was  dispatched  by  Braddock  to  Dunbar 
to  forward  wagons,  provisions,  etc.,  to  the  wounded. 

He  rode  sad  and  oppressed  during  the  whole  of  that  wet, 
long  and  dismal  night ;  through  dark,  gloomy  forests,  fre 
quently  having  to  dismount  to  grope  for  the  path,  and 
reached  Dunbar — whose  camp  was  in  an  incredible  state  of 
alarm  and  confusion  from  reports  brought  by  the  fright 
ened  wagoners — by  sunrise  the  next  morning.  His 
wretched  feelings  during  that  truly  doleful  ride  can  better 
be  imagined  than  described.  Thence,  being  still  very  fee 
ble,  he  retired  to  Mt.  Vernou  to  recruit  his  shattered 
health. 

It  is  a  well-attested  fact,  that  in  1770 — fifteen  years  after 
this  battle — Washington,  when  travelling  on  the  Big  Kana- 
•wha,  was  visited  by  an  old  Indian  chief,  who  stated  that  he 
had  been  present  at  the  battle  of  Braddock's  Fields  and 
had  not  only  often  fired  on  Washington  himself  but  had 
instructed  his  young  warriors  to  fire ;  but  finding  it  in  vain, 
had  come  to  the  conclusion  that  he  was  protected  by  the 
Great  Spirit  and  was  preserved  for  a  great  future.  So, 
indeed,  he  was. 

We  may  pause  by  the  way  one  moment  to  follow  Brad- 
dock  till  death  released  him.  He  remained  under  the 
faithful  care  of  Captain  Stewart ;  was  first  carried  on  horse 
back  and  afterwards  conveyed  by  soldiers  in  his  sash,  fast 
ened  on  poles  as  a  "  stretcher." 


314  OLD    FORT   DUQUESNE. 

At  10  P.  M.  on  the  tenth,  the  day  after  the  battle,  he 
reached  Gist's  plantation.  Next  morning  he  arrived  <it 
Duubar's  camp,  high  up  in  the  Laurel  Hill,  six  miles  from 
t.he  present  city  of  Uniontown,  where  the  half-famished 
fugitives  from  the  battle-field  were  constantly  coming  in 
and  soldiers  deserting  by  the  score  without  ceremony. 

Braddock's  strength  was  now  rapidly  ebbing  away.  He 
had  abandoned  all  hope  of  achieving  anything  ;  and  it  is 
to  be  supposed  that  the  sufferings  of  his  mind  were  far 
greater  than  those  of  his  body.  He  still  issued  his  com 
mands,  and  confidently  expecting  pursuit  and  knowing 
that  Dunbar's  panic-stricken  force  was  in  a  most  shameful 
and  dangerous  state  of  demoralization,  ordered  the  destruc 
tion  of  the  immense  stores  of  arms,  wagons,  powder,  and 
provisions,  resuming  his  march  towards  Cumberland  on 
the  12th.  These  orders  were  not  fit  for  a  British  officer  tc 
give,  nor  for  one  to  obey.  Want  of  horses  and  demoraliza 
tion  of  his  army  were  Dunbar's  excuses. 

On  the  13th,  Braddock  was  evidently  sinking  fast. 
Ever  since  the  retreat  commenced,  he  had  preserved  an 
almost  unbroken  silence.  His  dying  hours  were  very  much 
embittered,  and  it  would  have  been  far  better  had  he  left 
his  remains  on  the  carnage  field. 

The  only  allusions  he  made  to  the  fate  of  the  battle,  was 
to  softly  repeat  to  himself  once  or  twice:  "Who  would 
have  thought  it  ?  "  Turning  to  Orme :  "  We  shall  better 
know  how  to  deal  with  them  another  time ! "  and  these 
were  his  parting  words. 

A  few  moments  later  he  breathed  his  last  at  8  p.  M.  Sun 
day,  the  13th,  and  was  buried  the  next  morning  right  it 
the  middle  of  the  road — Washington  reading  the  funera: 
service  over  his  grave.  The  troops,  wagons,  and  artillery 
passed  over  the  place  to  destroy  all  traces  and  prevent 
discovery  and  mutilation  by  the  enemy,  supposed  to  be  io 
pursuit  (See  Appendix  W.) 


BRAD  DOCK  8    RETREAT   AND    DEATH.  31E 

About  1823,  some  laborers,  while  working  on  this  road, 
exposed  these  last  "  unwept,  uuhouored,  and  unsung  "  re 
mains.  They  were  still  distinguishable  by  their  military 
trappings.  It  is  asserted  that  some  were  sent  to  Peale's- 
Museum,  Philadelphia,  while  the  rest  were  re-interred 
under  a  tree  near  by. 

This  tree  has,  in  these  present  times,  either  by  "  Decay's 
effacing  fingers,"  or  by  the  spoliations  of  relic  hunters,  been 
reduced  to  a  mere  rotten  stump.  It  remained  for  Josiah 
King  and  John  Murdock,  of  Pittsburgh,  to  rescue  the  spot 
from  total  neglect.  In  December,  1871,  they  proceeded  tc 
the  forsaken  grave,  situate  on  the  farm  of  James  Dixon, 
nine  miles  east  of  Uniontown,  and  planted  about  it  a  num 
ber  of  elms,  spruces,  larches  and  willows.  Should  any  fail 
to  grow,  they  will  be  replaced,  and  Mr.  Dixon  having 
agreed  to  surround  the  spot  with  a  strong  fence,  it  is  to  be 
hoped  that  thus  the  last  resting  place  of  the  brave  but  rash 
and  unfortunate  General  will  be  marked  out  to  generation! 
yet  to  come. 

We  scarce  deem  it  worth  while  to  allude  to  a  Pennsyl 
vania  tradition,  industriously  circulated  and  generally  be 
lieved  throughout  the  whole  country  for  half  a  century, 
that  Braddock  fell  by  the  hands  of  one  of  his  own  men. 

Thomas  Fausett,  a  sort  of  mountain  hermit  of  Fayett€ 
county,  wild,  uncouth  and  gigantic  in  his  appearance,  dis 
tinctly  claimed  for  himself  that  he  killed  Braddock  to  save 
the  remnant  of  the  army  from  destruction,  and  to  revenge 
the  cutting  down  of  his  brother  Joseph  by  Braddock  for 
taking  position  behind  a  tree. 

Hon.  Wiuthrop  Sargent,  who,  under  the  auspices  of  the 
Pennsylvania  Historical  Society,  published  the  only  full 
and  reliable  history  of  Braddock's  expedition  and  battle 
has  most  carefully  and  thoroughly  examined  this  Fau 
sett  romance,  sifting  all  the  evidence  on  which  its  credibility 
rests,  and  unhesitatingly  pronounces  it  unworthy  of  ere- 


316 


OLD    FORT    DUQUESNE. 


dence.  In  this  dictum  we  most  heartily  concur.  There  if 
not  a  tittle  of  trustworthy  evidence  to  support  the  story. 
All  cotemporary  authorities  are  totally  silent  concerning 
any  such  feat,  and  Fausett's  own  tale — as  well  as  are 
the  accounts  of  those  who  uphold  his  claim — is  bungling, 
absrrd.  and  inconsistent. 


CHAPTER  XLIX. 

MARIE   GONE — JACK   ON   THE   TRAIL. 

And  lie  looks  for  the  print  of  the  ruffian's  feet, 

Where  he  bore  the  maiden  away ; 
And  he  darts  on  the  fatal  path  more  fleet, 
Than  the  blast  hurries  the  vapor  and  sleet 

O'er  the  wild  November  day. — Bryant. 

SOON  as  the  fierce  tempest  of  battle  and  the  cloud  of 
hurtling  bullets  had  fairly  swept  the  beaten  forces  over  the 
slope  and  down  upon  the  lower  flat,  Jack  felt  that  all  was 
over.  He  saw  the  "  beginning  of  the  end." 

Knowing  that  the  ruthless  savages  would  soon  spread  as 
a  red  cloud  over  the  plain,  and  anxious  for  the  fate  of  Ma 
rie — though  absent  not  forgotten — he  called  on  the  Half- 
King,  and  while  Jack  hurried  towards  Frazier's  cabin,  the 
latter  proceeded  to  the  woods'  edge  where  last  he  had  seen 
Marie. 

All  silent  and  desolate.  Jack,  his  heart  heavy  and  hib 
brain  fairly  in  a  whirl  from  apprehension,  then  made  for 
the  old  naturalist's  grave.  Unhappy  man !  No  Marie  to 
be  seen.  All  deserted.  Her  horse,  which  was  tied  near, 
gone  too — not  a  trace  of  either. 

Back  again  to  the  cabin,  his  limbs  in  a  tremor ;  now  out 
upon  the  bluff,  gazing  wistfully  over  the  water. 

Amid  a  group  of  fugitives  crossing  the  stream — at  that 
time  exceeding  low — he  recognized  Lieutenant  Frazier, 
wif»  and  daughter  on  their  horses,  but  no  Marie.  He 

317 


318  OLD    FORT   DUQUESNE. 

scarce  knew  what  to  think  or  do.  He  was  fairly  stunned 
His  breath  came  thick  and  fast,  and  he  leaned  wearily 
against  the  cabin  to  regather  his  dazed  senses. 

A  touch  on  the  shoulder  startled  him.  It  was  the  Half- 
King. 

"  My  brother  does  not  see  clear  to-day,"  he  said,  in  ear 
nest  and  sympathizing  tones.  "  The  loss  of  the  '  Wood- 
chrush '  clouds  his  mind.  Scarooyaddy  is  now  old.  Ho 
has  no  young  maiden  to  make  the  blood  fast  come  and  go. 
When—" 

"  What  is  it,  Yaddy  ?  Out  with  it,  Chief!  Have  you 
any  trace  of  her  ?  Speak  quick !  " 

"  Come  !  " — rapidly  leading  the  way  to  the  grave  of  de 
Bonneville.  "  When  my  brother  lose  his  senses,  Scaroo 
yaddy  must  see  and  think  for  him.  He  has  been  out  on 
the  search.  Look  there !  " — pointing  to  the  place  where 
the  palfrey  was  tied  and  around  which  could  be  faintly 
discerned  traces  of  moccasined  feet. 

Jack  gazed  first  at  the  prints,  and  then  at  the  Half- 
King.  He  was  now  himself  again,  although  very  deeply 
moved. 

"  Indians,  sure  as  there's  a  God  above  us !  Anything 
more,  Chief? " 

The  Half-King  led  the  way  into  the  woods  and  down 
the  river's  margin,  pointing  out  the  plain  tracks  of  the 
horse,  and  here  and  there  and  on  both  sides,  foot  priuts, 
twigs  broken,  leaves  displaced,  and  sundry  other  mute  but, 
infallible  signs. 

"Yes!"  excitedly  exclaimed  Jack,  "here  the  horse  has 
gone  and  Indians  on  both  sides  of  it — that's  clear  as  sun 
light — but  no  trace  of  Marie.  She  may  have  crossed  the 
river,  or,  frightened  by  the  terrible  tumult  of  the  fight, 
may  have  joined  the  crowd  about  the  artillery;  or — " 

"  Come  a  little  further,"  quietly  answered  the  Half- 
King.  "  What  does  my  brother  think  of  that  ? "  pointing 


MARIE   GONE — JACK   ON  THE   TRAIL.  319 

o  a  lady's  glove  lying  aside  of  the  road,  behind  a  laurel 
bush,  which  the  instinctive  delicacy  of  the  Chief  had  left 
to  the  ardent  lover  first  to  touch.  Marie,  at  some  favorable 
moment,  must  have  thrown  it  behind  her  for  a  clue  to 
Jack,  should  he  seek  her. 

Jack  snatched  the  dear  token  from  the  grass,  pressed  it 
t )  his  lips,  and  said  in  great  agitation : 

"  Chief,  you  are  right — are  always  right.  No  more  room 
for  doubt.  Marie  is  a  captive,  and  among  Indians.  This 
precious  little  glove  bids  me  follow  and  rescue  her.  Any 
thing  else  ?  " 

"  Listen !  The  Indians  are  five ;  they  are  Delawares ; 
they  have  passed  only  a  half  hour  ;  they  were  careless  and 
did  not  fear  pursuit,  and  they  will  keep  the  river  bank 
and  not  go  along  the  hills." 

Jack,  knowing  well  the  unerring  and  almost  miraculous 
sagacity  with  which  Indians  discern  and  interpret  the 
minutest  signs,  and  having  had  very  many  especial  occa 
sions  to  test  Scarooyaddy's  wonderful  powers  in  studying 
out  and  following  indistinct  trails,  at  once  accepted  the 
Indian's  conclusions  with  unquestioning  confidence.  He 
himself  was  no  mean  adept  in  all  kinds  of  woodcraft,  but 
in  trail-hunting  he  yielded  the  palm  to  the  old  Half-King. 
It  was  an  Indian's  life  business,  his  specialty,  as  it  were. 

Jack  mused  a  moment.  The  great  love  he  bore  the  fair 
captive  made  him  less  prompt  and  resolute  than  usual. 
Looking  up  somewhat  anxiously,  however,  he  said : 

"  Well,  Chief,  you  know  the  awful  peril  just  now,  but  I'd 
follow  that  trail  if  it  led  into  King  Shingiss'  wigwam — yes, 
into  the  very  grave.  Here  let  us  part.  The  whole  country 
is  alive  with  enemies,  and  I  must,  as  you  know,  go  right 
through  them  and  into  their  very  nest." 

The  Half -King  darted  a  quick,  hurt  look  at  his  com 
panion  and  said  simply  and  quietly,  but  none  the  leas  re> 
bukingly : 


120  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNB. 

"  'The  Black  Rifle '  is  very  dear  to  Scarooyaddy.  When 
his  son  was  killed  by  Braddock's  soldiers,  his  white 
brother  came  to  his  lodge  and  wept  and  mourned  with  him, 
and  now  that  the  '  Wood-thrush'  is  taken  to  a  Delaware 
cage,  shall  a  great  Chief  turn  his  back  and  let  his  brother 
hunt  his  song  bird  alone  ?  Is  Scarooyaddy  a  Delaware  dog 
to  do  so  vile  a  thing?  " 

"  I  might  have  known  as  much,  Chief,"  said  Jack, 
pressing  the  Indian's  hand,  and  brightening  up  at  this 
proof  of  friendship  and  valuable  assistance.  "Well,  be  it 
so,  Yaddy.  We've  hunted  many's  the  trail  together,  and 
I'd  be  loth  to  part  company  now.  So  step  out,  Chief!  If 
Marie  can  be  found,  we'll  find  her  and  save  her,  too." 

And  the  twain,  taking  on  the  set  look,  and  falling  into 
the  steady,  dogged  gait  of  trained  trailers,  passed  deep  into 
the  woods  and  along  the  very  route  they  had  so  gallantly 
fought  over  a  few  days  before. 

While  so  many  others  were  then  flying  from  the  foe, 
these  two  tried  scouts,  their  lives  in  their  hands,  were  going 
directly  towards  him — out  of  the  jaws  of  death  into  the 
mouth  of  helL 


CHAPTER  L. 

TALBOT  AND  SMITH — FORT   REJOICING*, 

For  those  that  fly  may  fight  again, 

Which  he  can  never  do  that's  slain ; 

Hence  timely  running's  no  mean  part 

Of  conduct  in  the  martial  art. — Butlei*»  Ifudibra*. 

One  woe  doth  tread  upon  another's  heel ; 
So  fast  they  follow. — Hamlet. 

HOURS  after  Beaujeu  and  his  Indians  had  left  the  fort, 
Talbot  and  Smith  sat  on  the  ramparts,  gazing  out  upon 
the  woods  which  had  covered  them  from  view.  Both  felt 
confident  of  victory,  but  Talbot,  with  his  couleur  du  rose 
disposition,  and  with  such  an  exalted  and  unshakable  con 
fidence  in  Braddock  and  his  drilled  army,  felt  actually 
jubilant. 

"  You  see,  James,"  he  said,  in  one  of  his  gushes,  "  Brad- 
dock's  no  chicken.  He's  an  old  campaigner — has  served 
long  under  the  fighting  Duke  of  Cumberland  and  knows  a 
thing  or  so.  Those  screeching  scaramouches,  too,  who 
sometimes  positively  make  me  blush  for  the  brevity  of  their 
pantaloons  and  the  exposure  of  their  bosoms,  have  no  can 
non,  and  when  the  first  big  gun  is  trained  on  them  and 
opens  with  its  awful  roar — and  when  the  grenadiers,  with 
their  muff  caps,  commence  to  throw  their  grenades,  'twill 
be  just  like — like — what  will  it  be  like,  Smith  ?  " 

"  I'll  swear  /  don't  know,  Mr.  Talbot ;  tell  me.  Misi 
Fleury  chasing  the  fort  chickens?" 

21  331 


322  OLD  FORT  DUQUESNE. 

"Pshaw!  Why,  like  a  fox  jumping  into  a  warren  of 
rabbits,  to  be  sure !  You'll  see  those  red  rascals  trooping 
back  into  their  holes  absolutely  white  in  the  face,  and  old 
father  Nymwha  at  the  head  of  them ;  but,  by  jove,  here 
comes  your  Miss  Fleury  and  looking  pretty  as  a  pink,  too. 
Don  jour,  mademoiselle ! " 

"  Good  day,  milord,"  replied  the  doctor's  daughter,  ap 
pearing  somewhat  anxious  and  nervous.  "  I  fear  we're 
about  to  have  a  terrible  battle.  What  will  become  of  us, 
should  your  General  be  victorious  ?  Has  he  a  very  supe 
rior  force,  milord  ?  " 

"  Well,  mademoiselle,  not  so  much  as  regards  quantity, 
but  in  quality — if  you'll  allow  me — I  think — no,  I'm  sure 
of  it — he  has — but  never  fear,  my  young  lady,  you  may 
expect  the  most  generous  and  courteous  treatment  at  Brad- 
dock's  hands.  He's  a  perfect  gentleman  and  a  very  great 
favorite  with  the  ladies." 

"  I  haven't,  between  you  and  me,  milord,  too  much  faith 
in  our  painted  friends.  They  appear  jealous  and  suspicious, 
and  if  they  were  crossed  in  anything,  would  prove  treach 
erous  ;  but  Beaujeu  says  that  wherever  they've  been  fairly 
matched  with  the  British,  they've  beaten  them." 

"  Oh,  Beaujeu  be  d — dumbfounded ! "  hotly  answered 
Talbot.  "  He's  enough  to  make  a  fellow  swear !  He 
knows  much  about  the  British,  don't  he?  What's  he  made 
all  ready  to  decamp  for  ?  Look  at  those  guns  and  other 
signs !  Why,  his  own  Indians  bully  him.  When  Brad- 
dock  reaches  here,  by  the  lord  Harry,  if  I  don't  get  him  to 
make  the  pompous,  swaggering  old  turkey-cock  run  the 
gauntlet  of  our  Indians !  Yes,  and  blamed  if  I  wont  dress 
up,  or  rather  down,  as  the  head  of  the  file!  But,  halloo ! 
what's  that? — sounds  like  the  distant  roar  of  cannon. 
Listen!" 

Again  came  that  peculiar,  impressive,  reverberating  roar, 
distant,  yet  distinct. 


TALBOT   AXD  SMIIO — FORT    REJOICINGS.  323 

"It  is,  James,  by  Jupiter  Ammonl  and  Braddock'a 
army  is  come  at  last !  Twouldii't  do  for  me  to  hurrah  just 
here,  but  would  you  mind  telling  me  what  time  it  is,  mad 
emoiselle  ?  " 

"  About  two,  milord.     Why  do  you  ask  ?" 

"  Two  ?  Well,  let's  kalkerlale,  as  they  say  in  these  colo 
nies  ;  about  half  an  hour  for  the  scrimmage,  and  three 
hours  for  the  long  driving  them — that  makes  three  and  a 
half;  then  a. half  hour  here,  accepting  the  invitation  to 
enter;  that  makes  four.  Abou.  six — well,  may  be  half- 
past  six — this  evening,  Miss  de  Floury,  I  hope  to  have  the 
pleasure  of  introducing  to  you  our  gallant  old  General." 

"  Come,  come !  milord ! "  flashed  up  the  little  lady. 
"  These  are  strange  words  from  a  prisoner.  As  I  can't 
share  with  you  in  your  opinions,  I  beg  to  take  my  leave ; 
and  I'd  advise  you,  as  a  friend,  to  restrain  your  tongue 
somewhat." 

"  Appears  to  be  a  little  huffy,  Smith.  May  be  I  did 
show  more  delight  than  was  civil  or  prudent ;  but  I  never, 
in  all  my  born  days,  James,  felt  so  big  and  proud." 

"  Braddock's  guns  have  a  cheery,  gladsome  sound  to  a 
poor  prisoner,"  said  Smith.  "  But  oh,  they've  been  so  long 
a  coming." 

"  Never  fear ! "  gaily  answered  Talbot ; "  they're  here  now, 
and  I  don't  see  how  I  can  be  held  down.  Every  roar — 
just  listen  to  that  music! — seems  to  lift  me  right  out  of  my 
boots.  I  just  think  I  see  the  grape  and  canister  scattering 
those  bewildered  reddies;  but,  Smith,  we'll  have  to  sit 
around  for  a  few  hours,  meek  as  Moses,  or  these  poor  fel 
lows  wont  like  it.  I  wonder  if  they'll  evacuate.  Gad,  I'm 
afraid  of  it." 

By  this  time  every  man  left  in  the  fort  was  out  on  th« 
drill  ground,. or  gathered  in  groups  on  the  rampart,  looking 
intently,  in  the  direction  of  the  sounds,  and  speculating 
in  low  tones  on  the  chances  of  the  battle  then  in  progress. 


824  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 

All  were  anxious,  restless  and  excited,  and  these  feel 
ings  increased  as  the  hours  wore  on.  The  reports  of  the 
cannon  could  be  distinctly  heard,  now  singly,  now  in  full 
chorus,  and  each  sound,  as  it  came,  caused  its  thrill.  Con 
versation  sank  to  a  whisper ;  positions  were  shifted ;  none 
could  stay  from  the  ramparts,  and  every  eye  was  anxiously 
fixed  on  the  woods  for  the  first  fateful  news  from  the 
field. 

About  five  o'clock  the  whole  line  of  listeners  was  elec 
trified  by  the  sudden  emergence  of  an  Indian  runner  from 
the  wood  in  front.  Almost  exhausted,  panting,  breathless, 
and  covered  with  sweat,  he  gave  one  scalp  halloo,  and 
Btaggered  his  way  immediately  towards  the  crowd  who  had 
gone  out  to  meet  him  and  know  the  fate  of  the  fort. 

It  was  Nymwha  himself,  but  almost  spent  with  rapid 
tunning.  His  news  came  from  him  in  jerks  and  spurts, 
ever  and  anon  interrupted  by  a  scalp  halloo,  and  the 
glad  tidings  he  brought  were  soon  passed  from  mouth  to 
mouth. 

The  change  from  anxiety  and  apprehension  to  that  of 
joy  and  exultation,  was  indeed  magical.  Every  eye  danced 
with  delight.  The  soldiers  shook  hands  with  each  other, 
and  so  crowded  on  the  old  Shawnee,  asking  a  thousand 
questions,  that  the  grim  Chief  was  nearly  suffocated.  He 
was  the  hero  of  the  hour. 

His  tale  was  soon  told.  Its  burden  was  that  Beaujeu 
had  not  been  able  to  reach  the  ford,  where,  posted  securely 
behind  the  thick  trees  on  the  river's  margin  and  with  Brad- 
dock's  unsheltered  array  before  him,  he  had  hoped  to  drive 
them  back ;  that,  although  the  battle  was  in  full  progress 
when  he  left,  there  could  be  no  doubt  of  the  issue,  as  the 
English  had  been  surrounded,  and  were  shot  down  in  great 
numbers;  that  the  Indians  had  been  hidden  in  ravines 
und  behind  trees,  and  that  the  Swannocks  [English],  in- 
of  at  once  flying  or  rushing  on  the  concealed  foe. 


TALBOT   AND   SMITH — FORT    REJOICINGS.  325 

appeared  completely  bewildered,  huddled  together  in  the 
centre  of  a  ring,  aujl  before  the  sun  was  down  there 
wouldn't  be  a  man  of  them  alive.  Beaujeu  was  killed,  and 
a  few  Canadians  and  Indians,  but  almost  all  Braddock'a 
officers  had  been  picked  off"  their  horses,  where  they  fool 
ishly  remained  to  be  shot. 

This  was  an  awful  shock  for  our  poor  captives.  Their 
hearts  sank  within  them.  It  was  like  thunder  out  of  a 
clear  sky.  They  were  the  Indians'  prisoners,  and,  if  this 
news  were  true,  had  nothing  before  them  but  death,  tor 
ture,  or  captivity  almost  as  bad  as  either. 

At  first  Talbot  scouted  the  story  and  flouted  the  story 
teller ;  told  Smith  'twas  as  "  false  as  hell ;"  that  Braddock 
couldn't  be  beaten  ;  that  the  runner  wouldn't  have  time  to 
bring  the  news  so  soon.  At  length  such  was  his  violence 
that  the  soldiers  began  to  look  ferociously  at  him,  and  would 
Boon  have  laid  rude  hands  on  the  peppery  little  English 
man,  had  not  the  officer  in  temporary  charge  of  the  fort 
threatened  him  with  the  guard  house  if  he  did  not  hold 
his  peace. 

The  poor  fellow,  crushed  to  the  earth,  but  still  hoping 
against  hope,  wandered  off  to  the  Allegheny  side  of  the 
fort,  sat  himself  down  on  the  bastion,  almost  shedding  tears 
of  chagrin  and  disappointment. 

After  a  while  he  managed  to  get  old  Nymwha  up  to  him, 
in  order  to  question  and  cross-question  him.  Drawing 
himself  up  to  his  full  height,  which  our  readers  will  remem 
ber  was  not  so  very  full,  and  confronting  his  captor  and 
expected  father  with  an  angry  and  indignant  look,  he  burst 
out  on  him : 

"  Nymwha,  you  hoary  old  sinner,  you !  Does  your  Great 
Spirit  love  lies?" 

"  Me  no  like  that  talk  from  my  son.  Little  '  Two-scalps' 
must  watch  his  tongue,  or  my  squaws  must  switch  him  with 
hkkories.  Nymwha  ever  speaks  truth,  and  is  great  chief 


526  Oi.D   FORT   DUQUESNE. 

and  warrior.  To-morrow  he  take  '  Two-scalps '  and  make 
him  his  son  before  all  the  Shawanos  tribe." 

Talbot  winced  under  this  threat,  and  began  fully  to 
realize  his  forlorn  and  hopeless  situation.  He  noted,  too,  a 
marked  change  in  his  once  good-humored  captor.  His 
temper  and  amiable  mood  had  plainly  altered.  Besides, 
Nynnvha  looked  and  talked  so  sincerely,  that  Talbot  was 
forced  to  credit  the  tidings  he  brought. 

"  But,  Nymwha,  your  story  seems  so  wild,  I  can  scarce 
believe  it.  Braddock  had  a  splendid  army  and  is  a  great 
General." 

"  Nymwha  speak  with  a  straight  tongue.  Braddock 
very  brave  but  much  crazy.  All  the  Indians  laugh  at 
him.  Officers,  too,  crazy — lose  their  heads.  Never  try  to 
find  enemy.  Shoot  each  other  down.  No  get  behind 
trees,  but  all  crowd  thick  in  road  so  Indians  could  better 
fire.  Every  redman  have  plenty  horse  and  scalps.  But 
me  go  to  meet  my  braves." 

Talbot  now  joined  the  throng  on  the  ramparts.  All 
were  eager  and  joyful  and  on  the  qui  vive  for  the  next  tid 
ings.  Meanwhile,  every  gun  of  the  fort  had  been  loaded 
up  to  the  muzzle,  ready  to  celebrate  the  victory. 


CHAPTER  LI. 

THE  VICTORS    RETURN   FROM  THE   BATTLE. 

With  look,  like  patient  Job's,  eschewing  evil; 

With  motions  graceful  as  a  bird's  in  air; 
Thou  art,  in  sober  truth,  the  veriest  devil 

That  e'er  clenched  fingers  in  a  captive's  hair. — Halleck. 

Had  not  God,  for  some  strong  purpose,  steel'd 

The  hearts  of  men,  they  must,  perforce,  have  melted, 

And  barbarism  itself  have  pitied  them.— Eicliard  the  Second. 

JUST  as  the  sun  was  going  behind  the  western  hills  and 
casting  its  dying  glories  over  the  waters,  a  loud  and  con- 
itant  firing  was  heard  from  the  woods  in  front,  accompanied 
by  the  scalp-halloo,  and  a  succession  of  short,  sharp  yells 
and  whoops  and  joyful  shrieks,  and  the  first  Frenchmen 
emerged  from  the  woods,  driving  before  them  a  number  of 
horses,  laden  down  with  booty  and  spoils. 

The  news,  then,  was  true — not  a  peg  left  to  hang  a  doubt 
on — and  such  a  shouting  and  firing  of  guns  and  cannon 
went  up  from  the  fort  as  never  had  been  heard  before. 
The  hills  about  were  fairly  full  of  the  noisy  tumult.  It 
Beemed,  as  Smith  expressed  it,  "  as  if  all  hell  had  brcken 
loose  for  a  holiday."  (See  Appendix  X.) 

Soon  appeared  a  constant  succession  of  whites  and  In 
dians,  absolutely  staggering  under  the  weight  of  their  booty. 
The  latter  wore  fantastically  tricked  out  in  officers'  cha- 
peaus  and  g "Id-lace*  uniforms;  flourishing  swords  in  one 

327 


328  OLD   FORT   DDQUESKE. 

hand,  and  strings  of  scalps  in  the  other,  silken  sashei 
about  their  waists,  and  richly-embroidered  baldricks  and 
silver  gorgets  about  their  breasts. 

Some  had  on  cavalry  boots,  while  others  had  their 
pasnted  heads  most  grotesquely  hidden  under  the  huge 
grenadiers'  caps.  Here  one  party  trailed  in  the  dirt  the  flags 
and  standards,  while  another  dragged  along  the  two  brasg 
six-pounders. 

The  victory  was,  then,  complete — too  great,  almost,  for 
belief.  Everything  was  in  their  hands,  and  the  joyful  in 
mates  of  the  fort  rushed  forth  and  mingled  with  the  crazy 
throngs  outside— catching  hands  and  leaping  like  a  set  of 
Dancing  Dervishes. 

To  fittingly  close  the  long  procession,  came  a  little  band 
of  twelve  British  regulars,  stripped  entirely  naked,  their 
hands  securely  bound  behind  them,  and  with  half  their 
faces  and  bodies  painted  black,  a  sure  sign  of  their  being 
devoted  to  the  stake  and  the  prolonged  cruelties  of  a  sav 
age  torture. 

It  was  a  sad  and  most  piteous  spectacle — enough  to  have 
moved  a  heart  of  stone.  How  captured,  none  will  ever 
know.  If  they  surrendered  to  the  Indians  in  hopes  of 
quarter  and  the  usages  of  civilized  war,  they  must  have 
had  a  rude  awakening  long  ere  they  reached  the  fort. 

As  these  miserable  and  dejected  captives  approached, 
their  eyes  cast  down,  their  faces  full  of  anxiety  and  appre 
hension,  Talbot  recognized  Sergeant  MacPherson  at  their 
head  and  could  not  restrain  his  tears  and  sobs.  He 
abruptly  turned  and  left  the  parapet.  They  were  all  hia 
own  unhappy  countrymen,  brought  across  the  seas  to  grace 
an  Indian  triumph. 

HOAV  would  his  eyes  have  streamed  tears,  and  his  breast 
have  swelled  with  indignation,  had  he  then  knew  what  he 
afterwards  learned,  that  half  the  captives  had  been  toma- 
on  the  way  from  the  ticld ;  that  the  remnant  were 


THE   VICTORS   RETURN    FROM   THE    BATTLE.         329 

prisoners  of  the  Indians,  doomed  to  die  a  most  horrid  death 
by  stake  and  torture. 

Yet  so,  indeed,  it  was.  They  were  soon  swept  past  the 
fort  down  to  the  beach  of  the  Allegheny,  and  conveyed 
across  in  canoes  to  a  little  island  right  opposite  the  fort. 
The  horrid,  damnable  rites  were  to  take  place  that  very 
night.  The  fires  were  even  then  being  lighted,  and  the 
stakes  driven.  Glutted  with  blood,  the  pitiless  devils  now 
demanded  torture  by  fire. 

Night  now  fell  upon  these  maddening  scenes  of  triumph, 
but  neither  did  the  silence  or  the  darkness  long  endure. 
Poor  Talbot  and  Smith,  their  hearts  bowed  down  with 
grief  and  filled  with  the  gloomiest  apprehensions,  retreated 
to  the  remotest  angle  of  the  fort — that  nearest  the  junction 
of  the  two  rivers. 

Here  they  sorrowed  and  conversed  together,  wondering 
if  they  would  be  permitted  to  question  the  prisoners  when 
brought  in.  They  had  picked  up  the  general  results  of  the 
battle,  but  Talbot,  who  had  many  friends  in  the  army,  hun 
gered  for  more  news,  and  had  just  told  Smith  that  he  was 
resolved  to  give  up  his  parole  and  share  the  prison  with 
the  others.  He  would  not  accept  any  favors  and  would 
again  risk  his  life  to  escape. 

Their  attention  was  now  irresistibly  drawn  to  the  island 
opposite,  where  the  flames  were  blazing  higher  and  higher, 
and  where  they  could  not  but  note  the  assemblage  of  In 
dians  constantly  growing  larger  and  larger. 

The  huge  fires,  built  on  a  bare  space  near  the  beach, 
cast  a  broad  sweep  of  vivid  light  across  the  water  and  fort. 
The  dark  stretch  of  sombre  woods  behind  them  was  brought 
out  with  wonderful  clearness  and  distinctness,  while  the 
lines  and  circles  of  swarthy  Indians,  as  they  either  walked 
in  front  or  danced  and  howled  around  the  flames,  were 
thrown  into  strong  relief. 

The  excitement  on  this  island  grew  stronger  and  strongei 


330  OLD   FORT   DUQUESXE. 

each  moment.  The  eyes  of  the  two  captives  were  fasci« 
nated  and  held  spell-bound  by  the  weirduess  of  the  sct.ie. 
The  "  scalp-dance,"  and  the  "  victory  dance,"  were  first 
performed,  with  such  intense  vigor,  such  wild  and  savage 
screams,  such  leapiugs  and  grotesque  contortions,  as  to  ex 
cite  the  utmost  wonder  along  the  line  of  soldiers  which 
thronged  the  river  ramparts. 

And  now  a  brief  and  awful  pause,  and,  amid  a  yelling 
and  frantic  crowd  of  painted  demons  brandishing  their 
blood-red  tomahawks,  the  little  crowd  of  nuked  British 
regulars,  Sergeant  Mac  Pherson  at  the  head,  are  slowly  led 
out  and  bound  to  stakes,  in  full  view  from  the  illumined 
bastions  of  the  French  fort. 

"Good  heavens!"  cried  Talbot,  in  the  utmost  anxiety; 
"why  are  the  poor  prisoners  there  and  what  are  they  going  to 
do  ?  What !  Why,  Smith,  it  surely  cannot  mean  torture 
right  in  sight  and  hearing  of  the  garrison  !  No !  oh,  no ! 
They  could  not — dare  not  commit  such  an  atrocity." 

Talbot  started  up  in  alarm.  Observing  de  Ligncry 
standing  not  far  off,  he  accosted  him  in  French. 

"  May  I  ask,  Captain,  what  is  about  to  be  done  with  your 
prisoners  over  there?" 

The  French  Captain  shrugged  his  shoulders,  tried  to 
look  away  off,  but  obliged  to  reply  something,  said  curtly : 

"  Not  our  prisoners  but  the  Indians'.  I  believe  they 
are  going  to  put  them  to  death." 

"Great  heaven!"  excitedly  exclaimed  the  now  thor 
oughly-aroused  Talbot.  "  What!  by  torture?  Your  Com 
mandant  surely  would  not  permit  so  inhuman,  so  horrible, 
«o  cowardly  an  act." 

Another  shrug  and  far-off  look  from  the  French  Cap 
tain,  as  if  he  wished  to  avoid  those  earnest,  indignant, 
questioning  eyes. 

"  There  sits  le  Capitaine  Dumas,  milord,  in  his  quarter* 
B>  is  now  the  Commandant.  Go  ask  him." 


THE  VICTORS   RETURN  FROM   THE   BATTLE.         331 

"  That  will  I,"  and  running  straight  up  to  where  Cap 
tain  Dumas  sat  writing  in  his  room,  and  hastily  passing 
the  single  guard,  he  burst  out  in  French : 

"  Will  monsieur  please  inform  me  what  mean  the  fires 
and  your  prisoners  on  that  island?" 

Dumas  started,  grew  pale,  shrugged  his  shoulders, 
French  fashion,  and  finally  said,  as  de  Lignery  did  before 
him: 

"  The  Indians'  prisoners,  milord.  They  intend  to  treat 
them,  I  very  much  fear,  in  their  own  manner.  We  are 
powerless  to  prevent — " 

"  What !  "  cried  Talbot,  his  face  and  voice  betraying  his 
horror  and  indignation  ;  "  scalp  and  torture  them  ?  in  sight, 
too,  of  this  fort  and  the  lilies  of  France  ?  Surely  Captain 
Dumas  jests.  I  have  found  him  brave,  gentle  and  humane, 
and  he  cannot  mean  so  cruel  a  thing.  He  dare  not  so 
Btain  the  French  escutcheon  and  besmirch  the  victory  his 
allies  have  somehow  been  allowed  to  win  this  day.  Are 
those  inhuman  savages  not  yet  glutted  with  blood?" 

"  I  fear,  milord,  the  Indians  must  carry  out  their  cus 
toms,"  answered  Dumas,  with  a  shamed  and  cowed  look. 
:t  We  have  already  crossed  them  many  times  to-day.  They 
we  angry,  excited  and  rebellious — have  demanded  the  lives 
Df  their  prisoners,  and  threaten  to  abandon  us  to-morrow 
if  we  do  not  allow  them  their  sacrifices." 

"  And  you  have  consented  ?  "  questioned  Talbot,  his  eyes 
flashing  indignation,  yet  trying  to  keep  down  his  rising 
•corn  and  wrath. 

"What  could  I  do?"  the  Frenchman  deprecatingly 
trgucd.  "  Captain  Beaujeu  might  have  influenced  them, 
but,  alas,  he  is  killed,  and  my  authority  is  not  yet  respected. 
Braddock  has  another  large  army  just  behind  him,  and  I 
Was  forced  to  it  to  save  this  fort." 

"Forced — to — it?"  slowly  hissed  out  Talbot,  his  slight 
form  rising,  and  his  face  so  aflame,  as  it  were,  with  a  righteous 


532  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 

indignation,  that  Dumas  fairly  cowed  before  him  and  ap 
peared  insignificant  beside  him. 

"Forced  to  it!  God  in  heaven!  and  you  call  yourself  a 
gentleman  of  France?  I  tell  you,  degenerate  Sir,  you 
have  done  a  base,  and  a  wicked,  and  an  inhuman  tiling — • 
one  that  dishonors  your  flag  and  nation,  and  that  disgacea 
you  as  a  man  and  an  officer.  I  solemnly  protest  against 
this  horrible  barbarism,  in  the  name  of  God,  my  country, 
and  humanity.  I  call  on  you  to  forbid  at  once  this  awful 
outrage.  Far  better  save  your  honor  than  your  fort — your 
manhood  than  your  garrison.  An  avenging  God  will  surely 
punish  such  cowardly  cruelty." 

"  How,  insolent  Sir  1 "  hotly  answered  Dumas,  now  finding 
in  Talbot's  bold  but  imprudent  words  an  excuse  for  a 
diversion ;  "  do  you,  a  prisoner  and  a  civilian,  mean  to 
insult  a  French  officer  in  his  own  quarters? — to — to — " 

"  I  do,  Sir,"  calmly  interrupted  Talbot ;  "  if  that  can  be 
done.  I  say  again,  'tis  a  cowardly  act.  I'll  not  withdraw 
the  word.  I'd  say  it  if  you  sent  me  to  prison  or  death,  or 
to  the  same  slow  torture  you  subject  my  poor  countrymen. 
I  am  more  than  your  equal  in  rank,  and  if  you  wish  to 
resent  the  offence,  there's  my  glove.  I  hold  myself  ready 
at  any  time  and  with  any  weapons ; "  and  Talbot  cast  down 
his  glove  before  the  astounded  Frenchman,  and  with  scorn 
on  his  face  and  wrath  in  his  eye,  turned  and  left  the 
cabin. 

The  young  Hotspur  expected  immediate  arrest.  But  no. 
Captain  Dumas,  whose  subsequent  career  showed  him  a 
humane  officer,  felt  at  heart  the  English  lord  was  right. 
He  had  no  defence ;  was  afraid  of  a  scene ;  and  knowing 
there  were  no  witnesses,  and  that  Nymwha  had  claimed 
and  would  remove  his  prisoner  early  next  morning,  wa* 
fain  to  tamelj  swallow  the  insult. 


CHAPTER  LIL 

HORRIBLE  TORTURES  OF  PRI80XE18. 

Torture  thou  may'st,  but  thou  fihalt  ne'er  despise  me  ; 

The  blood  will  follow  where  the  knife  is  driven; 

The  flesh  will  quiver  where  the  pincers  tear, 

And  sighs  and  cries  by  nature  grow  on  pain; 

But  these  are  foreign  to  the  soul ;  not  mine 

The  groans  that  issue,  or  the  tears  that  fall ; 

They  disobey  me ; — on  the  rack  I  scoru  thee  I 

Young's  Revengi, 
Captivity 
That  comes  with  honor,  is  true  liberty. — Massing er. 

THE  agonies  of  the  poor  prisoners  had  now  commenced. 
Their  doleful  cries  and  groans  were  swept  over  the  fort. 
Most  of  the  French  soldiers,  to  their  credit  be  it  said,  with 
drew  from  the  sickening  sight.  One  pitying  glance  from 
Talbot  was  enough,  and  sent  him,  his  hands  tightly  pressed 
over  his  ears,  to  the  bastion  farthest  removed  from  this 
horrible  dance  of  death. 

The  prisoners  were  baited  about  their  stakes  like  bears, 
by  their  merciless  tormentors;  obliged  to  run  their  weary 
rounds  on  hot  embers ;  slashed  with  knives  and  tomahawks ; 
live  coals  pressed  against  their  roasting, quivering  muscles; 
pine  splinters,  soaked  in  fat,  thrust  into  their  flesh  and 
fired  I)  crackle  under  the  skin  ;  red-hot  gun-barrels  drawn 
across  their  shrinking  flesh  ;  scalding  whiskey  poured  down 
their  parched  and  burning  throats,  and  blazing  brands 
thrust  into  their  mouths  and  cars. 

Oh,  if  was  horrible,  most,  horrible  I 

333 


834  OLD    FORT   DUQUESXE. 

Happy  was  the  Indian  who  could  wreak  upon  tin 
wretched  victim  a  pang  or  torture  more  exquisite  or  excru 
ciating  than  the  last ;  who  could  wring  from  him  a  more 
agouizing  cry  or  more  profound  groan,  and  then  to  crown 
all  this  devilish  ingenuity,  as  the  sinking,  dying  sufferer 
lost  his  sensibility  ;  when  his  nerves  no  longer  shrank  nor 
his  flesh  quivered  ;  as  his  horrible  screams  diminished  with 
the  power  to  feel,  then,  tearing  off  his  scalp,  these  inhuman 
monsters  extorted  one  last  dying  groan,  by  flashing  gun 
powder  or  heaping  coals  on  the  throbbing,  palpitating  brain 
beneath. 

And  all  this  in  full  view  of  the  frowning  bastions  of  a 
French  fort,  whose  flag  was  never  more  sullied  than  on  that 
day. 

Sergeant  MacPherson,  he  whose  sweet,  powerful  voice 
had — with  his  "Annie  Laurie" — only  the  night  before,  en 
tertained  the  whole  British  army,  and  sent  their  thoughts 
and  affections  trooping  homewards  to  their  loved  ones,  was 
reserved  for  the  last.  He  was  the  only  officer  captured, 
and  by-  a  hellish  refinement  of  savage  cruelty,  his  soul  was 
to  be  first  tortured  before  his  body,  by  being  compelled  to 
witness  all  the  awful  sufferings  of  his  companions,  and  thus 
to  enjoy  a  foretaste  of  his  own  doom. 

It  was  almost  a  relief  to  him  to  have  these  incarnate 
fiends  commence  on  his  poor  body,  but  not  for  long.  Soon 
a  piercing  shriek  was  extorted  from  the  unhappy  sufferer, 
which  set  Talbot's  nerves  all  on  the  quiver,  and  brought 
him  once  more  to  the  ramparts.  All  his  countrymen  silent 
in  death  save  poor  MacFherson,  who  stood  with  hands 
tied  over  his  head,  and  strongly  revealed  against  the  fire 
light. 

Talbo*  had  known  the  sweet  singer  well,  and  knew  him 
now.  He  could  stand  it  no  longer.  Rushing  to  the  near 
est  sentry,  he  suddenly  wrenched  the  musket  from  hii 
hands,  and  before  the  frightened  fellow  could  recover  hi* 


HORRIBLE  TORTURES   OF    Pl.ISOXERS.  33J" 

senses,  he  took  deliberate  aim  and  fired,  hoping  thus  to  end 
the  poor  fellow's  tortures. 

It  was  well  aimed,  but,  alas,  the  distance  was  too  great 
The  ball  missed  its  mark,  but  succeeded  in  wounding  on* 
of  the  sergeant's  chief  tormentors.  There  followed  a  mo 
mentary  pause  and  stillness.  The  sergeant  turned  hin 
towards  the  fort,  and  dropping  on  his  knees,  appealiugly 
stretched  forth  his  charred  hands  for  another  shot  which 
might  bring  him  surcease  of  misery. 

He  asked  not  in  vain.  Just  then  there  sounded  on  the 
night  air  the  sharp,  clear  crack  of  a  rifle.  The  friendly 
bullet  sped  unerringly  on  its  merciful  mission.  Sergeant 
MacPherson  gave  but  one  leap,  and  then  lay  stark  in 
death,  shot  directly  through  the  head. 

But  who  was  the  mysterious  shooter  who  had  thus  balked 
tin  savages  of  their  prey?  None  could  tell.  Surely  not 
Talbot,  for  he  was  now  in  the  rough  hands  of  the  guard, 
being  rudely  and  violently  dragged  to  prison. 

A  great  hush  and  wonder  fell  upon  the  garrison,  and  a 
terrible  uproar  and  commotion  commenced  on  the  island. 
The  infuriated  Indians  turned  angry  eyes,  and  made  mena 
cing  gestures  towards  the  fort,  from  which  direction  the 
two  shots  had  come. 

There  was  a  running  to  and  fro ;  whoops  and  shrieks  fol 
lowed  in  quick  and  appalling  succession.  A  crazy  crowd 
of  savages  entered  their  canoes  and  made  straight  for  the 
fort.  Fearing  an  assault,  Dumas  ordered  the  draw-bridge 
to  be  raised  and  secured.  The  maddened  mob  were  now 
at.  the  very  gate,  and  demanded  instant  admission  and 
prompt  punishment  on  the  insolent  meddlers,  one  or  two, 
who  had  first  wounded  a  chief,  and  then  cheated  them  of 
their  revenge. 

A  parley  was  held.  Dumas,  who  spoke  Indian  well, 
frankly  explained  the  first  shot,  and  that  the  offended  was 
their  prisoner  and  would  be  severely  punished.  Wbeucf 


536  OLD   FOHT   DUQUESNE. 

the  second  fatal  shot  proceeded,  none  inside  the  fort  knew. 
Musi  have  come  from  the  outside.  They  would  make 
every  possible  search  for  the  guilty  man. 

This  speech  was  received  with  scorn  by  the  crafty  and 
infuriated  Lake  Indians,  who  had  already  been  deeply 
angered  and  disgusted  at  the  division  of  the  spoils  of  the 
late  battle-field. 

These  now  fairly  howled  in  scornful  derision.  They  were 
not  fools  to  be  so  put  off  by  old  squaws'  stories.  They  had 
examined  the  bodies  and  the  wounds,  and  the  bullets  had 
plainly  come  from  the  fort;  where  else  could  they  have 
come  from  ?  The  culprit  must  be  instantly  given  to  them, 
or  they  would  seek  revenge  and  abandon  the  French. 

This  was  stoutly  and  sternly  refused  as  impossible,  and 
eo  the  angry  and*  insulted  Ottawas,  after  giving  one  dis 
charge  of  their  guns  and  a  whoop  of  defiance,  retired  for 
the  night,  and  actually  marched  off  early  the  next  morn 
ing,  but  not  before  killing  and  scalping  two  unlucky 
Frenchmen  whom  they  caught  outside  the  fort  stockades.  * 

Most  of  the  other  Indians,  as  was  their  custom  after  a 
big  battle,  dispersed  to  their  homes  a  few  days  later. 

*  This  fact  was  ascertained  some  time  subsequently,  by  some  friendly 
Icdiaus,  who  went  on  a  mission  froia  Philadelphia  to  the  Allegheny 
»iver  savages,  to  try  and  detach  them  from  the  French  interest. 


CHAPTER  LIII. 

JACK  AND  THE  HALF-KINO  ON   A  TRill* 

Oh  I  could  I  see  thee  slumber, 

As  thou  wast  wont  of  yore ; 
When  the  Indian  in  his  birchen  bark 

Sped  lightly  from  the  shore : 
"When  fiery  eyes  gleamed  through  the  wood, 
And  thou  wast  often  tinged  with  blood. 
The  tomahawk  and  arrow, 

The  wigwam  aud  the  deer, 
Made  np  the  redmau's  little  world, 

Unknown  to  smile  or  tear. 
The  spire,  the  turret,  and  the  tree 
Then  mingled  not  their  shades  on  thee. 

Emerson1!  Ode  to  the  Ohio, 

THE  trail  on  which  Jack  and  the  Half-King  entered 
after  finding  Marie's  glove,  was  an  easy  one  to  follow.  It 
lay  for  miles  through  the  forest,  and  along  the  narrow 
ledge  between  the  hills  and  the  Monongahela,  and  abun 
dant  evidence  was  given  of  the  truth  of  the  shrewd  old 
Indian's  assertion,  that  the  Delaware  captors  were  careless 
and  regardless  of  pursuit. 

The  contrast  between  the  roar  and  tumult  of  the  battle 
field,  with  all  its  savage  whoops  and  shrieks  and  vocifer 
ous  clamor,  and  the  hush  and  stillness  of  these  peaceful 
woods,  was  most  marked  and  wonderful. 

Nothing  now  to  be  heard  but  the  drone  and  drowsy  hum 
of  insect,  or  the  plaintive  note  of  a  wandering  bird — the 
sluggish  water  on  one  side,  and  the  silent,  solemn,  rock- 
22  837 


838  OLD    FORT   DUQUESNE. 

ribbed  hills  on  the  other.  The  trees  lifted  aloft  their  leafy 
coronals  far  above  them,  and  through  these  secluded  clois 
ters  and  adown  these  .woody  aisles  and  colonnades,  their 
foot-fall  was  soft  and  noiseless. 

The  two  friends  plodded  along  in  silence,  but  with 
the  stealth  of  panthers ;  and  Jack,  though  outwardly  calm 
and  quiet,  was  deeply  excited.  The  traces  left  by  the 
enemy  were  so  fresh,  and  the  object  of  his  search  was  so 
precious  to  him,  that  his  countenance  seemed  fainy  to  shine 
with  the  fierceness  of  his  wrath,  while  his  eyes  were  actually 
aglow  with  passion,  and  pierced  the  dim  vistas  of  the  forest 
as  if  their  very  glance  would  annihilate. 

The  trail  lay  past  "  Four-Mile  Run  " — on  which  it  will 
be  remembered,  the  old  Naturalist  had  for  so  long  his  syl 
van  camp — until  it  came  to  a  small,  brawling  stream,  now 
known  by  the  euphoneous  title  of  "  Soho  Run,"  where  the 
tracks  diverged  dir-ectly  over  the  hills.  Here  the  two 
scouts  came  to  a  sudden  halt.  They  looked  at  each  other 
significantly,  when  Jack  thus  broke  silence  : 

"  Well,  Chief,  the  tale's  told.  Old  King  Shingiss  escapes 
my  vengeance  this  time.  Tis  that  old  thief  and  scalp- 
lii'ter,  Captain  Pipe  of  Shannopins,  who  must  make  the 
acquaintance  of '  Black  Rifle.'  I've  a  heavy  score  against 
him  already.  He's  the  pitiless,  murdering  fiend,  you  know, 
whom  I  blame  for  the  murder  of  my  family.  I've  hunted 
him  scores  of  times,  but  he's  ever  managed  to  get  off  some 
how.  Now  that  he's  stolen  away  Marie — Gods ! — but  come ! 
Yaddy,  come!  let's  hasten  !  why  tarry?" 

"  Stay!  my  brother,"  answered  the  cool  and  crafty  Half- 
King,  "  that  way  leads  to  sure  and  instant  death.  It 
crosses  the  broad  and  crowded  trail  leading  from  the  battle 
field.  Hark  !  d'ye  hear  that?  "  as  the  first  heavy  boom  of 
the  fort  guns  came  roaring  along  the  river  hills.  "The 
news  of  the  battle  has  reached  the  fort,  and  the  crazy  and 
victors  are  enjoying  it." 


JACK    AND   THE   HALF-KING1  ON    A   TRAIL.  339 

"  And  where's  the  wonder  ?  "  bitterly  exclaimed  Jack. 
"  They  were  fools  else.  Sure  never  did  men,  with  or  with 
out  brains,  march  with  wide-staring  eyes  into  such  a  clumsy 
fatal  trap.  Why,  the  wolves  or  bears  of  these  woods  wouldn't 
sc  iisgrace  themselves,  and  the  old  Braddock,  too ;  oh,  hit 
troops  would  show  the  American  rangers  how  to  fight 
Indians,  and  they  did  show  us  with  a  vengeance :  shooting 
us  down  like  pigeons ;  turning  on  their  own  brave  leaders, 
and  running  like  deer  before  the  hounds.  Where  would 
that  army  be  now,  Yaddy,  if  my  ranger  scouts  had  not 
been  so  insolently  sent  back  to  their  woods  ?  Oh,  its  sick 
ening  ! " 

"  Braddock  much  heart,  very  little  head — no  more  sense 
than  a  mud  turtle,"  moodily  answered  the  Half-King. 
"  His  soldiers  wear  too  pretty  clothes,  make  too  much 
music  and  too  many  turns.  Shawnees  and  Delawares, 
brave  warriors,  and  Shingiss  and  Gyasutha  and  Killbuck 
and  Pontiac  wise  and  great  chiefs.  But,  come  my 
brother  forgets  the  '  Wood-thrush '  pines  in  a  Delaware 
cage.  We  must  find  canoe  here  and  go  in  the  dark. 
Water  leaves  no  trail,  and  night  shuts  the  eye  of  an 
enemy." 

"  Right  again,  Chief!  Down  to  the  river  at  once  and 
hunt  a  canoe!  'Twill  go  hard  with  us  but  we'll  stir  up 
these  yelping  brethren  of  yours.  We're  not  7ta7/*-whipped 
yet,  and  when  Pipe  feels  most  secure  and  careless,  we'll  be 
right  into  his  very  camp.  But  let's  stop  awhile  under  yon 
clump  of  willows.  'Tis  a  trifle  too  early  yet  to  venture 
out  on  the  water." 

And  the  two  crouched  down  under  the  bushes  at  the 
mouth  of  the  run,  and  talked  earnestly  together  in  lu\v 
tones.  As  some  disguise  was  absolutely  necessary  for  Jack, 
he  proceeded  to  make  himself  look  as  much  like  an  Indian 
as  possible.  Borrowing  some  paints  from  his  com 
panion,  he  daubed  and  streaked  his  face  in  the  mos) 


340  OLD   FORT    DUQUESXE. 

approved  fashion.  Then,  thrusting  his  fur  cap  into  hia 
pouch  and  gathering  up  his  hair,  he  tied  it  at  the  crown 
BO  as  to  resemble  a  scalp-lock,  and  made  a  few  other 
changes,  which  so  completely  transformed  him  that,  except 
in  hroad  daylight  and  on  very  near  inspection,  he  might 
readily  pass  for  an  Indian  brave. 

"  There,  Chief,"  when  he  had  all  finished,  "  don't  I  make 
as  grim  and-  ugly  and  vicious  a  looking  chief  as  Nymwha 
or  Black  Hoof  or  any  of  you  red  devils  ?  'Tis  not  the 
first  time  I've  turned  Indian,  either.  Did  ye  ever  hear  me 
give  the  war-whoop?  I  could  make  your  scalp-lock  stand 
right  up — yes,  drop  clean  off,  unless  it  has  very  deep  roots. 
Now,  Yaddy,  creep  down  along  shore,  and  see  if  you  can 
find  a  canoe." 

In  half  an  hour  or  so,  and  just  as  it  "was  growing  some 
what  dark  and  indistinct,  a  canoe  appeared  around  a  point 
in  the  river,  and  came  creeping  up  silently  and  cautiously, 
the  Half-King  dipping  his  paddle  so  noiselessly  as  scarce 
to  make  sound  or  ripple.  When  it  touched  the  beach, 
Jack  just  as  quietly  shoved  out,  took  position  and  paddle, 
and  when  the  mid-stream  was  reached,  both  sat  down  and 
the  boat  was  allowed  to  float  idly  with  the  current. 

It  \vas  now  night.  The  big  guns  of  the  fort  had  by  this 
time  altogether  ceased  their  roar,  but  as  the  canoe  slowly 
neared  the  junction  of  the  rivers,  the  clamor  from  the 
island  opposite  the  fort  commenced  to  make  itself  heard. 
Both  scouts  pricked  up  their  ears  and  rose  cautiously  up 
on  their  feet. 

"  What's  that,  Chief?  "  whispered  Jack.  "  Tears  to  me 
I  see  a  singular  glow  in  the  sky  over  the  fort  there. 
What  does  it  mean  ?  It  can't  be  that  your  people  have 
fired  the  brush  to  celebrate  their  easily-gotten  victory. 
Well,  no  matter !  I  must  do  the  reddys  justice.  They  plan 
ned  and  yelled  and  fought  well  —  couldn't  have  done 


JACK   AND   THE   HALF-KINO   ON   A   TRAIT*          341 

better.  Hang  it,  Chief,  what  d'ye  make  of  it — the  light 
and  noise  ?  " 

The  old  Half-King  was  a  picture  to  see  just  then.  Ha 
etoodly  firmly  erect  in  the  bow,  his  form  looming  up 
grandly  in  the  gloom,  his  head  bent  forward  in.  a  listening 
attitude,  his  eyes  gleaming  into  the  thick  darkness  ahead, 
his  nostrils  in  the  air  as  it  were.  He  was  all  alive,  from 
moccasin  to  scalp-lock. 

The  canoe  was  just  then  opposite  the  log  tool-house  out 
side  the  fort,  whose  rough  bastions  and  stockades  appeared 
dim  and  indistinct  in  the  distance  beyond. 

" It  means  prisoners"  he  slowly  hissed  out  at  last, 
as  he  quietly  resumed  his  paddle.  "  The  fires  are  all 
lighted  and  torture  has  commenced.  Don't  you  hear  the 
screams  ?  " 

"  God  in  heaven  I  'tis  true — must  be  so ! "  fiercely  ex 
claimed  Jack,  in  his  excitement,  and,  dashing  his  paddle 
into  the  water. 

It  was  fortunate  the  rivers  were  just  then  well  cleared  of 
canoes.  Most  of  the  Indians  who  were  not  dancing  or  ca 
rousing  in  their  own  camps  or  villages,  had  already  assem 
bled  on  the  island.  A  few  quick,  nervous  strokes,  and  the 
prow  of  the  canoe  turned  towards  the  Allegheny,  and  there 
stood,  fully  revealed  to  their  startled  gaze,  the  fires,  the 
tortured  prisoners,  the  circles  of  tormenting  savages,  and 
all  the  horrible  "  dance  of  death,"  such  as  we  have  already 
described  it. 

Even  the  old  Indian  was  moved,  while  Jack  was  fairly 
beside  himself  with  rage  and  excitement.  He  dropped  hia 
paddle  and  snatched  up  his  long,  black  rifle,  and  was  pro 
ceeding  to  cock  and  aim  it,  when  the  Half-King  darted 
forward  and  violently  caught  his  arm. 

"  What  would  my  foolish  brother  do?  Is  he  so  young 
and  strong,  and  yet  tired  of  life?  Does  he  too  wish  to  fc« 
tied  *o  yon  stake,  and  roasted  and  tortured  by  fire  ?  " 


842  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 

"  Hands  off,  Chief!  "  hissed  out  Jack.  "  I'd  put  a  hole 
through  that  big  fiend  who's  hounding  the  rest  on,  if  I  died 
for  it  the  next  minute !  Hands  off,  I  tell  ye !  You're  all 
devils  alike — cruel,  savage,  pitiless ! " 

The  old  Chief's  eyes  fairly  flashed  fire  and  he  would 
have  immediately  grappled  his  loved  friend,  but  all  at  once 
he  released  Jack's  arm,  drew  himself  up  with  impressive 
dignity,  and  quietly  said : 

"  Scarooyaddy  is  now  old,  and  is  well  content  to  die  with 
his  young  white  brother,  if  he  so  wishes ;  but  will  the 
'  Wood-thrush '  then  sing  more  happily  in  Captain  Pipe's 
wigwam  ?  Will  she  not  listen,  listen,  listen  for  the  footfall 
of  the  man  she  loves,  and  wait  for  his  strong  arms  to — ?  " 

"No  more!  and  forgive  me,  Chief !  I'm  but  a  green 
boy  to-night,  and  my  head's  turned ;  but  let's  hurry  past 
ins  cursed  island  and  get  to  the  Delaware  village ! " 

The  torture  fires,  as  already  described,  were  built  on  a 
little  semi-circular  clearing  near  the  beach  of  the  island, 
jnd  threw  a  broad  but  sharply-defined  expanse  of  light 
icross  the  Allegheny  and  the  opposite  fort.  On  the  very 
*lge  of  this  bright  reach  of  firelight,  but  quite  in  shadow, 
tud  only  a  hundred  yards  or  so  out  from  the  fort  beach, 
rested  the  scouts'  canoe.  Hence  the  wisdom  of  the  prudent 
old  Chief's  answer  to  this  suggestion. 

"  It  cannot  be.  The  bright  light  would  make  us  known 
to  both  those  on  the  island  and  at  the  fort,  while  just  be 
yond,  cauoes  are  constantly  coming  and  going.  We  must 
stay  here  in  the  dark  until  all  the  canoes  are  over." 

"So  be  it,  then,  Chief ;  but  back!  back  out,  I  say! 
Thank  God  I'm  white,  and  can't  be  made  to  look  longer 
m  such  horrible  sights  or  to  have  my  ears  filled  with  such 
dreadful  groans  and  shrieks ! "  and  Jack  gave  two  or  three 
powerful  back-strokes  with  his  paddle. 

Almost  before  he  knew  it,  the  craft  had  glided  right  be- 


JACK   AND   THE   HALF-KING    ON    A   TRAIL.  343 

iween  a  couple  of  canoes  crowded  with  warriors,  which  had 
quietly  come  up  unnoticed. 

The  position  was  perilous  in  the  extreme.  It  was  well 
our  scouts  haxl  gotten  deeper  into  shadow.  Jack  hurriedly 
turned  his  face  and  stooped  as  if  hunting  something  in  the 
bottom  of  the  boat.  The  Half-King,  who  had  quickly 
taken  in  the  whole  clanger,  had  to  face  it  out. 

Presuming  the  canoes  were  from  King  Shingiss'  village 
on  the  Ohio,  he  called  out  in  the  Shawuee  tongue: 

"Hold  there,  Mohigans,  or  you'll  run  into  us.  If 
Shiugiss'  young  men  are  come  to  see  how  Braddock's  pale 
faces  meet  death,  why  are  they  so  wide  out  of  the  course?" 

"  Oh,"  came  a  voice  back  in  rather  broken  Shawnese, 
"  we've  been  in  the  battle  and  stayed  to  send  our  dead  and 
wounded  down  by  canoe  and  to  take  scalps.  We,  too,  have 
*ust  come  down  by  water.  Our  girdles  are  laden  down 
with  the  scalps  of  our  enemies.  How  do  the  '  Long  Knives ' 
Itand  fire? 

"  Not  like  true  Indians.  They  are  cowards  all  and  howl 
like  wolves.  We  are  from  Nymwha's  village  on  the  island. 
Our  canoe  takes  in  much  water,  and  we  go  to  find  another 
it  the  forks  yonder.  If  you  would  see  the  pale-faces  dance 
and  scream  under  torture  you  must  hasten,"  and  giving  the 
canoe  a  stroke  forward,  that  danger  was  past. 

" '  Twas  a  narrow  escape,  Yaddy,"  whispered  Jack ; 
*  'tis  safer,  I  think,  to  push  boldly  past  the  fort  than  risk 
these  chance  comers.  You  have  no  doubt  but  that  Marie 
has  been  taken  to  Shannopins  by  Pipe?" 

"  No  doubt.     There's  where  Wau-ki-na  lives." 

"  True,  but  what's  Wau-ki-na  to  do  with  Marie?  " 

"  The  '  Bounding-Fawn  '  loves  the  '  Wood-thrush  '  very 
much,  but  as  she  can't  spring  to  her,  the  old  father  brings 
the  '  Wood-thrush '  to  Wau-ki-na." 

"  You're  right,  Chief.  I  didn't  think  of  that.  Let's  straight 
for  Sharnopius!  "  giving  the  canoe  a  push  up  the  \\VCJT. 


344  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 

The  ludian  no  longer  resisted.  When  they  approached 
again  the  broad  belt  of  light,  MacPhersoii  had  been  bound 
to  his  stake  and  his  cruel  torture  had  commenced.  Tha 
same  cry  which  had  attracted  Talbot  to -the  ramparts 
also  excited  Jack.  Looking  once  more  towards  the  fire,  he 
said: 

"Look,  Chief!  What!  that  surely  can't  be  my  friend 
Sergeant  MacPherson  whom  they  have  there!  It  is, 
as  I  live ! — the  sweetest  singer  and  the  truest  man  in  Brad- 
dock's  army." 

Another  doleful  cry  of  agony  just  then  came  from  the 
island. 

"  I  tell  you,  Chief,  I  can't  and  wont  delay  an  instant 
longer  I  I  will  balk  those  demons  and  save  the  sergeant, 
if  I  take  his  place  the  next  minute ; "  and  Jack  snatched 
up  his  rifle. 

Just  then  cameTalbot's  shot  from  the  fort,  wounding  the 
Indian  behind  the  sergeant.  A  moment's  pause. 

"  Chief,"  said  Jack,  sadly  and  solemnly,  "  I've  deserved 
this;  yes,  I've  deserved  it.  I  feel  as  if  I'd  been  called  a 
coward  and  been  struck  in  the  face.  To  be  reminded  of 
my  duty  by  a  cursed  Freucher  and  a  foe  at  that.  lie's  far 
more  heart  and  courage  than  I  have,  and  risks  for  an 
enemy  what  I  dared  not  for  a  friend,"  and  the  ominous 
black  rifle  was  raised  quickly  and  fired  with  true  aim. 

"  lie's  dead,  and  may  God  pardon  the  deed,"  as  the  ser 
geant  fell  at  the  shot.  "  I've  saved  MacPherson  two  good 
hours  of  agony  and  mutilation.  Back !  Chief,  back !  and 
make  straight  for  the  Monongahela !  " 

It  was  not  long  before  their  practised  eyes  noted  that 
there  was  no  pursuit — not  even  a  suspicion.  Never  dream 
ing  of  a  foe  so  near  after  the  decisive  victory  of  the  day, 
and  knowing  that  the  first  shot  came  from  Duquesne,  and 
the  second  from  the  same  direction,  the  enraged  savage* 
naturally  credited  it  with  both. 


JACK  AND  THE  HALF-KINO  ON  A   TRAIL. 


345 


When,  therefore,  the  Indians  were  embarking  in  their 
canoes,  Scarooyaddy  rested  on  his  paddle,  while  Jack 
reloaded,  and  then  both,  with  quick  and  vigorous  stroke; 
pushed  boldly  across  the  broad  belt  of  light,  actually  join 
ing  in  the  line  of  canoes  coming  from  the  island,  and  aa 
noisy  and  apparently  as  excited  as  any  of  them. 

As  they  approached  near  the  shore,  and  when  in  the 
shadow  and  out  of  range  of  the  dying  fires,  by  a  dexterous 
turn  of  their  paddles  their  canoe  was  made  to  shoot  out  of 
line  and  to  proceed  on  up  the  Allegheny. 


CHAPTER  LIV. 

MARIE   AND   WAU-KI-NA    FOUND. 

The  bubbling  brook  doth  leap  when  I  come  by 

Because  my  feet  find  measure  with  its  call : 
The  birds  know  when  the  friend  they  love  is  nigh, 

For  I  am  known  to  them,  both  great  and  small : 
The  flower  that  on  the  lonely  hill-side  grows, 

Expects  me  there  when  spring  its  bloom  hath  given; 
And  many  a  tree  and  bush  my  wandering  knows, 

And  e'en  the  clouds  and  silent  stars  of  heaven. — Bryant. 

THEIR  course  was  now  quiet  and  cautious.  They  were 
environed  by  grave  perils,  and  it  needed  cool  heads,  steady 
hands  and  brave  hearts  to  steer  clear  of  trouble,  but  all 
these  our  scouts  possessed,  and  soon  they  came  abreast,  and 
then  passed  Shannopins  town — a  long,  straggling  village 
of  Captain  Pipe,  the  noted  Delaware  Chief,  and  situated 
just  below  what  is  now  known  as  "  Two-Mile  Run." 

Just  above  the  head  of  the  island — on  which  two  years 
before  Washington  and  Gist  were  nearly  frozen  to  death — • 
now  known  as  Wainwrights — the  two  quietly  made  a 
landing,  and  earnestly  counselled  together  as  to  the  next 
Itep. 

It  was  now  very  late  in  the  niglit  and  little  hope  of 
accomplishing  much.  The  first  thing  to  be  done  was  to 
ascertain  of  a  surety  Marie's  presence,  and  then  manage 
an  interview  and,  if  possible,  plan  an  escape. 

As  the  two  scouts— rifles  and  knives  held  in  readiness — 
cautiously  and  Healthily  approached  the  village,  they  heard 
346 


MARIE   AND  WAU-KI-NA   FOUND.  347 

the  tum-tum-tum  of  the  rude  Indian  drum,  and  the  wild 
chants  of  crazy  revellers.  This  was  to  be  expected  on  the 
night  after  so  great  a  victory,  and  Scarooyaddy  knew  at 
once  that  almost  the  whole  village  would  be  celebrating 
(he  scalp  and  the  victory  dances. 

The  sounds  and  lights  came  from  a  thick  grove  of 
maples  and  sycamores — which  trees  here  grew  of  great  size 
and  luxuriance — situate  some  distance  off  towards  the 
hills. 

It  was  therefore  determined  that  the  Half-King  should 
boldly  enter  the  village  and  try  and  discover  Pipe's  lodge, 
where  it  was  supposed  Marie  would  be  found.  Jack  was 
to  await  his  report  at  the  foot  of  a  huge  buttonwood,  which, 
with  its  whitened  trunk  and  exposed  roots,  stood  bending 
>ver  the  mouth  of  the  run. 

The  wary  old  Indian  advanced  as  rapidly  as  the  dark 
Would  admit,  and  after  passing  a  sort  of  little  clearing 
found  himself  on  the  very  edge  of  the  village.  It  was  as 
•jxpected ;  the  place  appeared  deserted — nothing  but  here 
ind  there  a  barking  and  yelping  dog. 

The  Half-King  strode  along  at  an  easy  and  indifferent 
gait  until  he  saw  a  light  coming  from  a  log  cabin  about  the 
middle  of  the  straggling  hamlet.  This  he  judged  to  be 
Pipe's.  Hearing  female  voices  within,  he  slipped  quietly 
around  to  the  back  of  the  lodge  and  unhesitatingly  applied 
his  eye  to  one  of  the  chinks. 

A  gleam  of  satisfaction  lighted  up  his  swarthy  visage,  as 
he  found  his  expectations  confirmed.  There,  sure  enough, 
were  the  objects  of  his  search.  Marie  was  reclining  on  a 
sort  of  low  couch  covered  by  a  panther's  skin,  while  on 
another  robe  at  her  feet,  her  arms  resting  on  Marie's  lap, 
and  her  young,  girlish  face  turned  to  that  of  her  companion 
with  a  tender,  wistful  look  in  which  sorrow  and  sympathy 
were  mingled  with  love,  sat  AVau-ki-na. 

It  was  a  group  to  exact  the  warmest  admiration  for  its 


348  OLD   FORT  DUQUESXE. 

grace  and  beauty,  and  would  have  interested  even  a  lea 
impressible  person  than  the  noble  old  chief.  Marie's  pictu 
resque  dress  was  rumpled  and  disordered  from  her  late 
journeys.  Her  luxuriant  hair,  escaped  from  its  fastenings, 
fell  in  heavy  musses  about  her  shoulders.  Her  face  looked 
inexpressibly  sad,  while  the  unbidden  tear  stood  in  hei 
eyes.  She  appeared  jaded,  fearful  and  restless.  While 
her  fingers  were  playing  with  the  dark  tresses  of  the  affec 
tionate  young  beauty  at  her  feet,  it  was  plain  her  mind  was 
far,  far  away,  and  every  now  and  then,  as  the  bark  of  dog 
or  sound  of  distant  voice  was  heard,  she  would  give  a  little 
start  and  look  of  eager  expectancy,  and  then  would  appear 
sadder  and  more  anxious  than  before. 

Unhappily,  the  two  were  not  alone.  On  a  husk  mat  near 
the  door  sat,  or  rather  reclined,  two  hideous,  devilish-looking 
old  hags  of  squaws,  smoking  their  pipes  of  unsavory  sumach, 
crooning  and  croaking  and  gossiping  together ;  their  wicked 
eyes,  though  now  dull  and  heavy,  were  yet  still  sleepless 
and  watchful. 

Little  hope  of  doing  much  this  night,  and  yet  the  grim 
old  chief  stood  still  and  patient,  fixed  as  though  cut  in  stone; 
his  ears  inclined  to  catch  the  faintest  whisper  from  within, 
or  the  slightest  noise  indicative  of  danger  from  without. 
And  now  Marie  in  soft,  saddened  tones,  resumed  her  con 
versation. 

"  Well,  my  dearest  child,  no  use  to  sorrow  longer  for  me. 
I  know  you  grieve  much  more  than  you  are  glad  that  I  am 
here,  but  it  was  your  father's  doing,  and  I  now  believe  foi 
your  sake.  I  still  have  hope,  although  all  does  seem  against 
it.  If  Edward  only  is  safe,  however,  I  feel  he  will  not 
desert  me." 

"  Me,  too,  Miss  Marie,  will  not  desert  you,"  came  in  a  low 
tone.  "  If  your  Edward  come  for  you,  me  help  you  go — • 
yes,  me  go  with  you.  Wau-ki-na  hate  this  place  and  tbes« 
Indians,  since  «He  know  you  Wont  you  take  her  witt 


MARIE   AND    WAU-KI-NA    FOUND.  349 

fou  ?  "  and  Wau-ki-na  caught  Marie's  hands  and  looked 
irith  earnest  pleading  eyes  into  her  face. 

"  Hush-h-h.  That  would  be  very  wrong.  'Tis  not  me 
fuu  should  love  most,  nor  Edward,  but — " 

"  No  use,  my  dear,  good  lady.  Wau-ki-na  go  with  you 
»nd  Edward,  if  you  no  drive  me  back." 

"  Alas !  Edward  may  be  even  now  among  the  dead. 
Twas  a  fearful  day,  or,"  as  an  expression  of  sadness 
mixec3  with  fear,  flitted  over  her  face,  "  he  may  not  come 
at  all." 

"  Well,  then,  Wau-ki-na  be  your  Edward.  She  do  all 
she  know  to  make  her  friend  happy — go  in  woods  and  on 
water  with  her;  gather  flowers,  shoot  and  paint  the  beauti 
ful  birds,  find  the  honey  and  wood  apples — auyting— 
everyting,  but  leave  you." 

"I've  no  doubt  you'd  do  all  you  could,  pretty  maiden," 
answered  Marie,  smiling  sadly ;  "  but  when  did  you  say 
the  prisoner  was  to  become  Nymwha's  son  ?  " 

"  Morrow,  and  right  over  on  yonder  island.  All  go  to 
see  him.  He  very  merry,  handsome  young  brave — very, 
very  kind  to  Wau-ki-na — like  to  stay  with  her  very 
much,"  a  bright  flush  she  knew  not  of  mantling  her  young 
cheek. 

"And  do  you  like  him,  Wau-ki-na?  He's  but  a  stran 
ger  to  you,  and  you  can't  understand  all  he  says." 

"  Oh,  yes,"  casting  her  eyes  down,  and  speaking  more 
gently,  she  knew  not  why.  "  Wau-ki-na  understand  very 
well.  He  teach  her  English  and  look  so  sweetly  out  of 
his  two  large  eyes — eyes  just  like  a  fawn's,  Miss  Marie. 
Wau-ki-na  like  him  very — quite  much.  He  make  very 
nice  Indian  chief,  noting  like" — with  a  disdainful,  con 
temptuous  glance  which  well  became  her  brown  face — "  de 
rough  and  noisy  Mohigans  and  Shawanos'  young  men. 
Wau-ki-na  can't  bear  dem — wont  speak  to  dem." 

"  Why,  how  you  run  on,  Wau-ki-na,  girl  ?    Have  a  care 


350  OLD    FORT    DUQUESNE. 

that  the  handsome  young  Englishman  don't  steal  awaj 
your  heart." 

"  Oh,  my  dear  lady,"  with  a  puzzled,  frightened  look, 
pressing  Marie's  hands  tight  between  her  own  little  ones, 
"  he  wouldn't  do  dat  ting.  He  very  good  and  kind  to 
Wau-ki-na — say  such  pretty  words  and  look  so  loving 
from  his  eyes.  Oh,  no !  no !  me  not  afraid.  You  must 
c  )me  with  Wau-ki-na  early  to-morrow .  and  she  show  you 
place  she  always  sit  and  sing  and  take  swim  bath — away 
up  on  the  little  run,  where  the  laughing  water  r.orne  turn, 
bling  down  and  make  music  all  the  time.  Wont  you?" 

"  Oh,  yes,  I'll  go  with  you,"  Marie  answered,  the  sad, 
weary,  wistful  look  again  upon  her  face,  "  but — 

Just  at  this  moment  an  approaching  tumult  of  sharp, 
angry  whoops  caught  the  Half-King's  wary  ear.  He 
rightly  thought  it  was  the  return  of  the  party  of  baffled 
and  maddened  Delawares  who  had  gone  down  to  the  tor 
ture  scene,  and  which  was  so  unexpectedly  ended  by  Jack's 
shot.  He  had  heard  and  mainly  understood  the  conversa 
tion  of  the  two  girls,  and  once  even  his  stern,  iron  features 
relaxed  into  a  grim  kind  of  smile  as  Wau-ki-na's  innocence 
was  so  plainly  betrayed  in  confidential  words  ;  but  he  was 
a  listener  only  so  far  as  he  might  help  his  friend,  and  hav 
ing  obta;ned  a  clue  which  he  thought  of  service,  he  now 
retreated  as  quickly  and  as  quietly  as  he  came.  He  passed 
unchallenged — unnoticed  even,  except  by  the  Indian  dogs, 
which  occasionally  barked  at  his  heels.  He  found  Jack 
chafing  and  fretting  with  impatience  and  just  about  to  go 
in  search  of  him. 

"  Well,  Chief,  back  at  last ! — thought  you'd  never,  nevei 
come.  Out  with  it,  man  !— did  you  find  her  ?  Where  is 
she?  how  does  she  look?  and  what  does  she  gay?  quick! 
quick!" 

The  Half-King  now  rapidly  and  carefully  related  all  he 
bad  seen  and  heard,  and  both  agreed  that  they  would 


MARIE   AND   WAU-KI-NA    FOUND.  35J 

watch  the  next  morning  for  Marie  up  the  run,  judging 
rightly  that  after  a  day  and  night  of  such  excitement  the 
Dela wares  would  sleep  late. 

So  far  all  was  in  their  favor.  The  presence  of  "Watt- 
ki-na  would  trouble  them  somewhat,  but  they  hoped  to 
find  some  moment  when  the  two  would  be  separated,  or, 
if  this  were  not  possible,  then  to  make  the  young  Indian 
maiden  a  confidante  and  even  an  accomplice. 

The  two  now  sought  their  canoe,  concealed  t  carefully 
among  the  bushes  at  the  mouth  of  the  run,  and  thcu 
Scarooyaddy,  who  was  perfectly  familiar  with  the  whole 
region,  led  the  way  to  the  hilltop  and  pointed  out  a  safe 
and  secluded  shelter  for  the  night.  Before  sleep  closed 
their  eyes,  the  two  scouts  had  arranged  all  the  details  of 
the  escape. 

After  the  terrible  fatigues  of  the  day,  they  slept  on  their 
couch  of  gra^s  and  leaves  long  and  soundly,  and  it  was  nof 
until  the  sun  was  high  in  the  heavens  that  they  ate  theii 
frugal  meal  of  jerked  venison  and  army  bread,  which  they 
carried  in  their  hunting  pouches.  Of  course  they  dared 
neither  shoot  nor  build  a  fire. 

Instead  of  returning  to  the  village  bottom,  the  scouts 
made  their  way  along  the  hill  cone  until  they  overlooked 
the  valley  through  which  the  run  took  its  course.  Into 
it  they  descended,  very  warily  and  stealthily  gliding  from 
tree  to  tree.  At  last  the  noisy  little  stream  was  reached, 
and  along  its  margin  and  beneath  the  dense  covert  of  trees 
and  bushes  which  lined  it  on  either  side,  the  Half-King 
led  the  way  to  the  appointed  trysting  place,  a  full  hal  f 
mile  from  the  village. 

The  old  Chief  knew  it  well,  and  "Wau-ki-na  could  not 
have  selected  a  more  picturesque  or  secluded  retreat.  At 
this  point  the  noisy  and  rapid  little  stream — which  then 
flowed  full  from  recent  rains — poured  over  cmite  a  fall  of 
rocks,  its  foaming  and  agitated  waters  being  collected  into" 


552 


OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 


a  deep  rocky  basin  at  their  foot.  Over  this  deep  pool  the 
thick  foliage  of  the  trees  overarched,  while  among  them, 
and  hanging  in  graceful  festoons  from  their  branches, 
twined  luxuriant  grape  vines  and  creepers.  The  under 
growth  of  bush  and  vine  and  trailer  was  so  dense  and 
matted  on  both  sides,  that  scarce  did  even  the  sun's  rays 
ever  penetrate. 


CHAPTER  LV. 

JACK  MAKES  A  STRANGE  DISCOVERY. 

Our  life  was  changed  I  another  love 

In  its  lone  woof  began  to  twine ; 
But  oh !  the  golden  thread  was  wove 

Between  my  sister's  heart  and  mine. —  Willi*. 

IT  was,  then,  this  cool  and  sequestered  nook  which  Wau- 
ki-na  called  her  own.  Here  she  was  accustomed  to  come 
and  sit  and  muse ;  weave  her  flowers  and  grasses,  and  bead 
her  leggings  and  moccasins.  To  this  shaded  basin,  in 
company  with  other  Delaware  girls — but  more  frequently 
alone — did  she  retire  to  bathe  in  the  fresh,  limpid  waters, 
or  to  sit  on  the  mossy  tree  trunk,  which,  gradually  under 
mined  by  the  widening  pool,  lay  stretched  right  alongside 
the  murmuring  cascade. 

Jack  surveyed  the  spot  with  undisguised  admiration,  and 
could  not  help  but  think  more  kindly  and  tenderly  of  the 
young  girl  who  had  so  long  been  Marie's  companion,  and 
whom  both  so  much  esteemed.  He  now,  with  that  natural 
desire  every  lover  has  to  look  attractive  in  his  lady's  eyes, 
carefully  washed  off  all  traces  of  paint,  undid  his  hair,  and 
made  himself  look  as  comely  as  possible.  Taking  position 
behind  a  dense  covert  of  laurel  and  vines,  he  and  the  In 
dian  then  waited  and  waited,  but  with  very  different  feel 
ings. 

Finally  their  patience  was  rewarded.  In  the  distance 
23  363 


354  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 

could  be  seen  the  two  girls,  arm  in  arm,  picking  their  way 
along  the  margin  of  the  stream  and  engaged  in  an  ani 
mated  conversation,  Wau-ki-na,  however,  being  the  chief 
talker.  Soon  the  sad  tones  of  Marie's  gentle  voice  fell  upon 
Jack's  listening  ear  and  thrilled  along  every  tell-tale  nerve 
of  his  body.  Now  a  musical  little  ripple  of  a  laugh  was 
heard  from  Wau-ki-na's  lips,  as  she  pointed  out,  with  ex 
pressive  gesture,  this  or  that  point  of  interest. 

The  graceful,  engaging  little  Indian  maid  never  appeared 
to  more  advantage.  She  seemed  desirous  of  doing  all  she 
could  to  banish  Marie's  sadness  and  make  her  feel  at  home. 
Her  dark,  brunette  face  was  all  smiles  and  dimples,  and  as 
her  little  moccasiued  feet  stepped  daintily  from  stone  tc 
Btone,  and  as  her  broken  but  dulcet  English  was  carried  to 
Jack's  attentive  ears,  he  scarce  knew  which  to  admire 
most — Wau-ki-na,  or  her  more  matured  but  none  the  less 
beautiful  companion. 

At  last  the  two  were  cozily  seated,  Wau-ki-na  gracefully 
doing  the  honors.  Jack,  who  stood  above  them  breathless 
and  agitated  on  the  rocks  which  shut  in  the  little  pool, 
hesitated  to  reveal  himself.  He  hoped  that  soon  he  would 
have  opportunity  of  seeing  Marie  alone  and  of  telling  her 
his  plan  of  escape.  He  could  scarcely  help  being  a  listener 
— to  say  that  he  was  an  unwilling  one  would,  perhaps,  be 
going  too  far. 

"And  this,"  said  Marie,  "  is  your  snug,  sylvan  retreat? 
Well,  Wau-ki-na,  you  couldn't  have  picked  a  more  lovely 
spot.  Tis  fit  for  the  home  of  either  wood-nymph  or  water- 
sprite.  No  wonder  you  are  happy." 

"  Wau-ki-na  happy  once — no  more  so  now  if  Marie  go. 
She  no  like  pretty  much  Indian  life,  and  tinkof  many  ting 
— my  dear  Marie,  Mr.  Talbot  and  Edward." 

"  Edward,"  quickly  answered  Marie,  "  and  why  do  you 
think  of  him  ?  You  never  saw  him  but  twice." 

"  Seems  to  Wau-ki-ua  as  if  she  had  seen  him  many,  many 


JACK    MAKES   A   STRANGE    DISCOVERY.  355 

times.  He  like  a  dreain  to  her.  Make  her  tiiik  of  mother, 
long,  long  dead." 

Jack  should  have  retard  just  here  or  else  made  his  pres 
ence  known,  but  he  could  not — the  conversation  interested 
him  too  deeply. 

"  Oh,  nonsense !  child,"  replied  Marie.  "  I  have  already 
told  Edward  that  you  had  a  look  about  you  that  strangely 
reminded  me  of  his  mother,  but  how  he  could  remind  you 
of  your  mother  I  can't  understand." 

"  Me  don't  know — can't  tell,"  pensively  answered  Wau- 
ki-na ;  "  but,  when  he  13  wid  you,  I  feel  as  though  he  be 
longed  to  me." 

"  Why,  "Wau-ki-na,  this  is  madness — folly  !  Don't  talk 
any  more  that  way.  I've  known  Edward  from  a  boy,  and 
his  mother  and  sisters.  There  was  one  dark-haired,  dark- 
hued  little  girl,  whom  Edward  loved  very  dearly ;  but  she 
was  murdered  by  cruel  Indians  with  all  the  rest — not  one 
left.  He  used  to  fairly  dote  on  this  dear,  toddling  little 
girl,  whose  body  he  never  could  find  with  the  others.  I 
remember  as  it  were  yesterday,"  Marie  continued,  tenderly, 
as  if  recalling  the  past  to  herself,  "  a  child's  hymn  he 
taught  her,  and  which  this  little  girl  used  to  sing  after  him 
BO  sweetly,  and  with  such  broken,  child-like  accents  that  it 
was  a  treat  to  listen  to  her.  Do  you  know  what  a  hymn 
is,  Wau-ki-na?" 

"  You  told  \Vau-ki-na  dat  it  was  a  song  of  love  to  the 
Great  Spirit." 

"  And  would  you  like  to  hear  a  verse  of  this  little  hymn 
of  Edward's  sister,  Lucy  ?  " 

"  Lucy,  Lucy,"  softly  repeated  Wau-ki-ua  to  herself,  na 
if  dreamily  struggling  to  recall  a  name  or  thought  about 
escaping  from  her;  "Wau-ki-na  has  heard  that  word-— 
Bcems  like  an  old,  old  name." 

**  Oh,  you  heard  Edward  say  It  the  other  day,  Wau-ki-ua 


856  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 

when  he  was  telling  me  of  the  murder  of  his  mother  and 
sisters." 

"  Lucy,  lAicy.  May  be  so,  but  long  before  dat,  me  tink. 
Will  dear  Marie  sing  Wau-ki-na  the  little  Spirit  song  ?  She 
loves  so  much  to  hear  her  Marie  sing." 

"  It  went  something  like  this,"  and  Marie's  eyes  filled 
with  teai-s  as  she  commenced  to  sing,  in  broken  accents  : 

"  Pear  Father,  may  a  little  child, 
Humble  and  weak,  approach  Thy  throne?  " 

"  Why — why — Ma — Marie  ! "  here  broke  in  the  greatly 
agitated  Wau-ki-na,  who,  as  soon  as  her  companion  had 
commenced  to  sing,  sat  breathless  and  trembling,  a  flush 
on  her  face  and  a  strange  bewildered  look  in  her  eyes ; 
*  Wau-ki-na  know  dat.  Listen  1 "  and  she  took  up  the  tune, 
and  jweetly  sang  these  lines  : 

"  Jesus,  the  Saviour,  on  us  smiled, 
Asked  us  to  come — called  us  Ills  own." 

"  My  God,  Wau-ki-na,  what  can  this  mean  ?  Where 
neard  you  those  lines  and  that  tune?  It  cannot — you  are 
not — why — " 

At  this  moment  a  noise  and  rush  was  heard  from  be 
hind  them,  and  Jack  appeared  before  the  two  startled  girls, 
and  caught  Wau-ki-na  in  his  arms,  crying  out,  "  Why, 
Marie,  dear  Marie,  don't  you  see  ?  It's  Lucy,  my  little 
sister  Lucy ;  she  whom  I  thought  dead,  but  whose  body  I 
could  never  find.  5Tis  as  I  ever  suspected,  Captain  Pipe 
was  the  murderer  of  my  mother.  Oh,  my  dear,  long-lost 
Bister,"  and  Jack's  bosom  heaved  with  sobs,  while  his  eyes 
rained  tears.  Taking  up  again  the  frightened,  trembling 
girl,  who  seemed  bereft  of  all  sense  and  motion,  he  held 
her  off  and  gazed  intently  into  her  eyes:  he  then  com 
menced  lifting  away  from  her  temple  the  long  black  hair. 

"  Here,  Marie ;  why  here's  the  veiy  scar.     Don't  you 


JACK    MAKES   A   STRANGE   DISCOVERY.  357 

remember  in  Philadelphia  when  the  hatchet  flew  off  the 
handle  and  gave  Lucy  such  a  frightful  wound  ?  Here's  the 
very  place,  Marie." 

No  answer.  Marie,  overcome  by  the  double  shock  of  his 
sudden  presence,  and  the  strange  discovery  which  was  not 
yet  fully  understood,  had  sunk  down  to  the  ground  in  a 
swoon. 

"  My  God,  what  have  I  done?  Fool  that  I  was  to  corae 
on  them  this  clumsy,  crazy  way.  Have  I  killed  them  both? 
Here,  Chief !  Chief!  come  quick!  "and  Jack  caught  the 
fallen  Marie  in  his  arms,  while  the  Half- King,  who  had 
also  descended  and  just  then  come  round  upon  the 
scene,  lifted  some  water  in  his  hand  and  dashed  it  into 
her  face. 

Poor  "Wau-ki-na  was  gradually  recovering  from  he* 
shock.  During  this  touching  scene  she  had  stood  passive, 
trembling,  speechless — carried  away  by  the  suddenness  and 
import  of  the  disclosure.  Then  she  had  burst  out  into 
hysterical  sobs  and  tears,  but  now,  when  she  saw  Marie 
helpless  in  Jack's  arms,  she  shyly  advanced,  caught  hold 
of  her  brother's  arms,  gently  laid  her  burning  cheek  against 
his  and«said : 

"  Wau-ki-na  no  Indian  at  all ;  she  Edward's  little  sister 
Lucy.  She  feel  it  here," — placing  her  hand  over  her 
heart.  "  It's  all  true.  Lucy  old  name — new  name.  Cap 
tain  Pipe  very  bad  Indian.  Wau-ki-na  now  hate  him — he 
kill  my  mother  and  sister."  '  Then  seating  herself  beside 
Marie,  and  leaning  her  friend's  head  against  her  own  throb 
bing  bosom,  she  murmured :  "  Me  love  my  broder  very, 
very  much." 

The  whole  scene,  with  its  rapidly  shifting  events,  beggars 
all  description  Even  the  old  stoic,  Scarooyaddy,  was 
deeply  moved.  He  actually  turned  away  to  hide  his  emo 
tion,  and  had  never  a  word  to  utter.  Jack,  overcome  by 
the  blow  he  had  inflicted  on  Marie,  was  aho,  in  his  turn. 


358  OLD    FORT    DUQUESNE. 

bereft  of  speech,  and  could  only  gaze  dumbly  into  Marie'i 
face. 

At  length,  as  she  gave  sign  of  returning  consciousness, 
the  Half-King — as  much  from  motives  of  delicacy  as  from 
a  timely  caution — went  a  few  hundred  yards  down  the  val 
ley,  to  see  that  all  was  safe  and  no  prowlers  about. 

Marie  soon  opened  her  eyes ;  the  color  came  and  went 
*n  her  cheeks ;  a  long-drawn  sigh  escaped  her ;  she  looked 
trst  at  Jack,  then  atWau-ki-na;  smiled,  and  closed  her 
eyes  again,  murmuring : 

"  Thank  God !     Thank  God !  " 

"  Marie !  dear  Marie !  "  at  length  said  Jack  ;  "  can  you 
ever,  ever  forgive  my  cruel  awkwardness?  I  forgot  en 
tirely  that  you  could  not  have  known  my  presence,  but 
thought  only  of  my  long-lost  little  Lucy," — twining  his 
arm  around  the  waist  of  his  happy  sister,  and  looking  at 
her  fondly  and  proudly. 

"  Easily,  Edward,  easily,  for  the  great  joy  you  bring 
with  you,"  replied  Marie,  now  sitting  up  and  smiling  from 
very  gladness ;  "  but  oh,  it  was  a  terrible  shock ! — to  find 
you  living,  then  here,  and  then  Wau-ki-na  to  be  your  own 
sister.  \jj  T  not  tell  you,  Edward,  how  she  often  strangely 
renvaded  me  of  y^ur  mother?  And  to  think,  too,  how  the 
discovery  was  made — by  a  little  infant's  hymn.  How 
marvellous  is  the  power  of  association  and  the  tenacity  of 
memory.  One  can  never  forget.  No  wonder,  my  dear 
Wau-ki  ua,  the  name  of  Lucy  brought  back  the  past  to 
you.  Oh,  I'm  too,  too  happy  1  If  only  my  dear  father 
had  lived  to  know  all  this.  There  can  be  no  doubt,  can 
there,  Edward  ? " 

"  Oh,  not  in  the  least !  The  only  wonder  is  that  we  never 
discovered  her  before,  but  I  never  once  thought  of  Lucy  as 
among  the  living." 

"And  then,"  said  Marie,  "she's  naturally  so  dark  and 
her  haVs  so  very  black  and  the  Indian  language  ard  cos- 


JACK   MAKES   A   STRANGE   DISCO  VKKY.  359 

tume  and  all ;  but  Wau-ki-na,  love,  did  you  ever  see  Pipe 
have  anything  peculiar? — I  mean  anything  which  ever 
belonged  to  your  dress  ?  " 

"  Noting  but  dis  pretty  ting,"  eagerly  answered  Wau-ki- 
na,  drawing  from  her  bosom  a  locket  containing  some  fine 
grey  hair,  and  the  initials  "  E.  G."  engraved  beneath. 
"  My  fader — no,  not  fader," — with  indignation,  and  stamp 
ing  her  little  foot  imperiously — "  but  dat  bad  Indian,  Cap 
tain  Pipe,  hang  it  here  dis  very  day  to  wear." 

"  Give  it  me ! "  hastily  exclaimed  Jack.  "  Why,  Wau 
— Lucy,  I  mean — 'tis  our  dear  mother's  own  hair,  and 
these  are  her  initials !  Ellen  Graham  was  her  maiden 
name,"  and  he  turned  away  to  conceal  his  feelings. 

It  were  useless  to  repeat  the  long,  confidential  conversa 
tion  which  followed.  No  further  need  for  making  a  stran 
ger  of  Wau-ki-na,  and  it  was  beautiful  to  see  Jack  sitting 
with  Marie  and  Wau-ki-na — as  we  must  still  continue  to 
call  her — the  latter's  little  nut-brown  hand  resting  in 
Jack's,  and  her  eyes  every  now  and  then  shyly  and  timidly 
stealing  up  to  his  swart  and  bearded  face,  as  if  to  make 
sure  it  was  not  all  a  fleeting  dream.  She  was  too  full  for 
words — could  not  yet  realize  the  great  change  which  had 
come  to  her — could  scarcely  comprehend  it.  Her  eyes 
would  now  gladden,  and  now  moisten  with  tears.  Now  she 
would  clutch  her  brother's  arm  and  nestle  close  up  to  his 
side,  as  if  fearing  to  lose  him,  and  anon  she  would  gaze  at 
him  with  a  look  of  awe  and  fear. 

But  gradually  all  reserve  wore  away.  They  talked  fully 
of  the  past  and  then  of  the  present.  And  Marie  related 
how,  while  sitting  at  her  father's  grave,  the  noise  of  the 
battle  and  the  yells  of  the  Indians  grew  louder  and  nearer, 
and  that,  finally  becoming  aware  of  the  confusion  at  the 
ford,  she  was  just  preparing  to  go  to  the  cabin  for  news, 
when  she  found  herself  suddenly  surrounded  by  several 
Indians,  led  by  Pipe.  It  was  too  late  for  outcry  or  escape, 


360  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 

Pipe  was  quite  pleasant  with  her  ;  offered  no  •violence,  but 
Baid  the  battle  had  gone  against  the  English  ;  that  Wau- 
ki-na  was  sad  and  restless,  mourning  for  her,  and  that  she 
must  immediately  mount  her  horse  and  accompany  him. 
This  she  found  herself  compelled  to  do,  and  hoping  the 
trail  -would  be  followed  by  Edward,  she  had  thrown  back 
her  glove.  Jack,  in  his  turn,  told  how  shocked  he  was  at 
finding  her  gone ;  how  the  Chief  had  found  the  glove, 
enabling  them  to  trace  her  right  into  Pipe's  lodge,  and  how 
the  little  waterfall,  then  foaming  and  dashing  before  them, 
happened  to  be  the  place  for  so  happy  a  meet  and  d&noue- 
ment.  It  was  all  considered  a  most  delightful  ending  of  all 
their  troubles,  and  much  was  hoped  for  the  future. 

AVhen  Scarooyaddy  returned,  he  was  taken  into  council; 
and  it  was  agreed  that  the  escape  should  be  attempted  that 
very  night,  and  by  canoe,  as  being  far  easier  for  women, 
and  as  offering  no  trail  for  pursuers. 

The  details  were  now  all  carefully  arranged,  so  that  there 
might  be  neither  error  of  omission  nor  commission.  Jack 
and  the  Half-King  were  to  lie  concealed  all  day  and  to 
have  the  canoe — which  fortunately  happened  to  be  amply 
large  enough  for  the  whole  party — ready  at  early  dark  at 
the  mouth  of  the  run,  which  taking  an  abrupt  turn  past 
the  village  emptied  into  the  Allegheny  at  some  distance 
up.  Talbot,  if  possible,  was  to  be  included  in  the  escape, 
and  Wau-ki-na  was  to  go  over  as  intended,  and  as  if  nothing 
had  happened,  to  the  opposite  island  and  witness  his 
adoption  into  Nymwha's  tribe. 

The  young  lord  was  to  be  quietly  told  all  by  Wau-ki-na, 
BO  that  he  could  conduct  himself  accordingly,  and  then  he 
was  to  get  permission  from  Nymwha  to  take  canoe  and 
visit  Wau-ki-na,  or  failing  that,  to  be  ready  at  the  very 
point  of  the  island  to  be  picked  up.  The  two  girls  were 
likewise  to  steal  off  about  twilight,  as  if  to  take  an  evening 
walk,  secreting,  if  possible,  provisions  for  the  journey. 


JACK  MAKES  A  STRANGE  DISCOVERY.  361 

"  And  now,  Marie,  and  my  sweet  little  Indian  sister," 
said  Jack  rising,  "  the  Chief  and  I  must  bid  you  a  brief 
farewell,  and  climb  yonder  hill  again,  Marie,  keep  you 
close  in  Pipe's  lodge  all  day,  and  Lucy — oh  that  precious 
name  again — you  had  better  go  straight  to  the  island,  and 
be  very  cautious  in  telling  Talbot.  Good-bye,  and  may  God 
aid  us  all !  " 

So  saying,  Jack  pressed  Marie's  hand  and  gave  his  sister 
a  parting  embrace,  and  then  at  once— preceded  by  the 
Half-King — strode  rapidly  away  and  was  soon  lost  to 
Bight. 

The  two  girls  stood  for  some  little  time  still  and  motion 
less.  It  seemed  to  be  all  a  pleasant  dream,  which  had  now 
commenced  to  vanish.  Turning  at  last,  Marie  found  Wau- 
ki-na,  her  eyes  looking  yearningly  and  her  hands  stretched 
imploringly  towards  the  hill,  as  if  pleading  for  a  brother's 
protection.  Giving  her  a  warm  and  long  kiss,  tht?  two 
girls,  their  arms  entwined  in  a  mutual  embrace,  1  rned 
back  towards  the  Indian  village. 


CHAPTER  LVI. 

HYMTVIIA  CLAIMS  AND  TAKES  TALBOT. 

Wise  men  ne'er  sit  and  wail  their  loss, 
But  cheerly  seek  how  to  redress  their  harms. 

Henry  the  Sixth. 

A  good  leg  will  fail ;  a  straight  back  will  stoop ;  a  black  beard  will 
turn  white;  a  curled  pate  will  grow  bald;  a  fair  face  will  wither;  a  full 
eye  will  wax  hollow ;  but  a  good  heart,  Kate,  is  the  sun  and  moon, 
or  rather,  the  sun  and  not  the  moon;  for  it  shines  bright  and  never 
changes,  but  keeps  its  course  truly. — Henry  the  Fifth. 

WE  left  the  irrepressible  Talbot  in  the  fort  guard  house, 
and  for  the  third  time.  His  attempt  on  the  life  of  poor 
MacPherson  had,  it  is  true,  proved  futile,  but  he  enjoyed 
the  satisfaction,  before  stretching  him  on  his  bear  skin  for 
Jie  night,  of  knowing  that  another — some  mysterious  per- 
«on — had  taken  up  his  unfinished  work,  and  placed  the 
sergeant  beyond  further  torture  from  his  merciless  tor 
mentors. 

The  gay  young  lord's  reflections  were  none  of  the  pleas- 
antcst.  A  prisoner  of  the  Indians ;  about  to  be  adopted 
into  a  savage  tribe  ;  Braddock's  army  scattered  to  the  four 
winds ;  a  hundred  miles  of  pathless  forest  between  him  and 
the  English  settlements,  and  thousands  more  between  hii  i 
and  home — all  this  gave  cause  for  gloom,  and  tears  almost 
unbidden  came  to  his  eyes  as  he  thought  of  his  forlorn  and 
desolate  situation  and  the  sorrowful  prospect  before  him. 

"Blessed,"  says  the  immortal  Sancho  Panza,  "be  the 
wan  who  first  invented  sleep,"  and  balmy,  blissful  sleep 
302 


NYMWIIA  CLAIMS   AND   TAKES   TALBOT.  363 

gradually  stole  over  the  youthful  prisoner,  sealing  the  sor 
row-laden  eye,  unlocking  the  thronging  memory,  bringing 
the  "pure  oil  of  joy  for  the  spirit  of  heaviness,"  and  proving, 
indeed,  as  rich  a  blessing  to  him  as  it  has  before  and  siuce, 
to  myriads  of  other  weary  and  perplexed  mortals.  It  soon 
carried  oblivion — better  yet,  bright  and  happy  dreams. 
His  fancy  wandered  to  the  lordly  domains  and  palatial 
manor  of  his  father,  the  old  baron.  He  was  again,  after 
his  many  wanderings,  surrounded  with  all  he  loved,  and 
all  who  loved  him.  A  brightness  stole  over  his  counte 
nance;  a  sweet  smile  played  about  his  mouth,  and  the 
names  of  Mother  and  Wau-ki-na  became  somehow  ever 
blended  in  his  disordered  murmurings. 

The  day  was  quite  adsranced,  when  a  rude  knocking 
shook  him  out  of  his  long  slumbers.  He  awakened  re 
freshed,  hopeful,  and  almost  gay  again.  So  much  had 
sleep,  the  enchanter,  done  for  him.  Captain  de  Liguery 
stood  before  him,  flanked  on  the  one  side  by  an  orderly 
with  coffee  and  refreshments,  and  on  the  other  by  the 
grinning,  good-humored  phiz  of  Nymwha,  the  Shawnee 
Chief,  coming  to  claim  him  for  his  son. 

For  a  moment  Talbot's  heart  sank  again  within  him, 
but  hopes  of  a  speedy  escape  and  the  natural  spirits  of 
yjuth,  caused  him  to  brighten  up  immediately  as  he  bade 
the  Frenchman  a  boh  jour,  and  extended  his  hand  to 
Nymwha,  who  covered  it  with  one  of  his  huge  paws  and 
shook  it  almost  to  dislocation. 

"  Well,  Father — for  so,  I  suppose,  I  must  begin  to  call 
you — how  are  the  Madames  Nymwha  and  all  the  little  he 
and  she  Nymwhas — as  dirty  and  good-for-nothing  as  usual, 
I  suppose  ?  " 

The  old  Indian's  bony  cave  of  a  mouth  opened  wider 
and  wider,  and  his  portentous  grin  shot  from  ear  to  ear. 

"  Me  no  much  understand  pale-face  speech,  but  all  welly 
well.  Me  hav  no  one,  two,  thrqc  squaw — jis  one,"  holding 


364  OLD    FORT    DUQVESNE. 

up  a  long,  bony,  and  not  very  clean  talon,  and  shaking 
hia  head  and  leering  with  his  eye  the  while,  in  a  very  droll 
and  comical  manner. 

"  Just  one — that's  bad :  so  much  loveliness  wasted  on 
one  squaw,  and  when  do  you  want  me,  Nymwha?" 

"  Now — this  vely  morning.  All  two  Indian  towns  wait 
ing.  Heap  of  Shawnees  and  Delawares  come  to  see  you. 
Make  little  ' Two-scalps '  great  big  chief;  not  big  so"  rest 
ing  his  paternal  paw  on  Talbot's  head  as  he  read  aright 
the  incredulous  smile  in  his  eyes :  "  but  big  so,"  beating 
his  own  broad  and  brawny  breast  with  his  clenched  hand 
till  it  sounded  something  like  a  dilapidated  base  drum — 
"  big  heart,  brave  warrior,  great  chief  and  Medicine — " 

"  But,  Nymwha,  I  don't  want  to  be  your  son.  I've  aa 
much  father  and  mother  and  big  wigwam  across  the  great 
water,  as  I  care  for.  Would  you  wish  me  to  commit 
bigamy  f  "  looking  earnestly  and  somewhat  fiercely  into  the 
chiefs  eyes. 

"  No  understand  miiblgmy — not  Shawnee  word.  Listen  I 
Nymwha  had  son — great  warrior.  Hia  son  killed — wig 
wam  empty.  Little  '  Two-scalps '  take  him  place ;  be  a 
dear,  good  boy ;  he  eat,  shoot,  take  many  scalp,  marry 
Indian  squaw,  and  have — " 

"  Yes,  yes ;  thanks,  I  know ;  all  very  enticing,  and  'tis 
devlish  hard  to  give  it  up,  but  wouldn't  much  paint  and 
blankets  and  powder  and  two  new  guns  be  better  than  a 
little  fellow  like  me,  Nymwha  ?  I'd  rather  go  to  my  own 
home  and  live  with  my  own  father." 

"  What ! "  loudly  answered  the  grim  old  Shawnee,  in  a 
disdainful  manner,  an  incredulous  look  breaking  out  in 
spots  over  his  impassive,  parchment-like  face;  "go  away 
from  Chiefs  wigwam  and  the  big  woods,  with  plenty 
fish,  and  honey,  and  raccoon,  and  possum  and  bear — no 
work  like  squaw,  but  shoot,  shoot,  all  day,  and  sleep,  sleep 
all  night,  and — " 


NYMWHA    CLAIMS   AND   TAKES   TALBOT.  365 

"  Enough,  Nymwha ;  you've  won  me,  but  suppose  I  run 
away?" 

A  look  of  utter  wonder  before  the  Chief  answered. 

"  Can't  go  'way  from  great  Chief's  wigwam.  You  too 
big  fool  if  do  so.  If  little  '  Two-scalps  '  run  off  Nymwha 
catcli  him,  cut  him  into  little,  little  bits,  and  put  him  in 
pot  with  hominy,"  and  Nyrawha's  face  crimpled  up  into 
broad  wrinkles  of  fun  and  merriment  at  the  exquisite 
humor  of  the  conceit. 

"  Don't  think  I'd  do  well  as  a  broth,  Nymwha — am  posi- 
^ve  I  wouldn't  mix  kindly  with  corn.  I  might  prove  palat- 
-  *)le  but  very  indigestible  to  Mrs.  N.  and  the  children,  but 
if  I  have  to  go,  gentle  Father,  lead  the  way !  I'm  ready," 
and  Talbot,  his  meal  now  finished,  passed  out  towards  the 
drawbridge,  his  stalwart  papa  just  behind  and  looking 
down  on  him  in  the  most  absurdly  bland  and  patronizing 
manner. 

Just  at  this  moment,  Smith,  accompanied  by  Tecaugkre- 
.anego,  a  noble  and  dignified-looking  chief,  came  up  to  bid 
him  good-bye.  The  young  man  looked  very,  very  sad, 
ind  the  tears  actually  stood  in  his  eyes  as  he  pressed  Tal- 
bot's  hands  in  the  most  affectionate  manner.  "  Come ! 
come !  Jimmy,  this  will  never  do,  my  boy  ;  we  must  keep 
up  a  brave  heart,  if  for  nothing  else  than  to  spite  these 
cursed  frog-eaters.  Blamed  if  I  wouldn't  rather  be  Nym- 
wha's  than  Dumas'  captive;  I  would,  ^y  jove,  and 
especially  after  last  night's  doings." 

"  I  wouldn't  care  so  much,  Mr.  Talbot,"  lugubriously 
answered  Smith,  "  if  we  were  only  going  together,  for  I've 
come  to  like  and  to — to  depend  on  you  so  much.  You've 
ever,  somehow,  such  a  light  merry  heart." 

"  Pooh,  pooh,  Jimmy !  I'm  far,  far  sadder  than  I  look  ; 
but  I'd  rather  die  than  show  that  just  now  to  these  con 
ceited  French ers.  Besides,  you  know,  James,  I've  or  e 
advantage  over  y  ^u ;  while  you're  going  away  from  your 


866  OLD   FORT    DUQUESNE. 

sweetheart,  I'm  about  to  hunt  mine  up ;  and  now,  good 
old  fellow,  and  take  this  to  remember  me  by ; "  as  Talbot 
secretly  slipped  into  Smith's  unwilling  baud  his  fine  com 
pass — at  that  time  quite  a  rarity.  "  Now,  not  one  word, 
lad  !  you  must  take  it ;  may  we  soon  meet  again ; "  and 
Talbot  turned  his  back  on  his  friend,  who  went  to  what 
afterwards  proved  a  five  years'  captivity. 

Many  of  the  French  soldiers,  knowing  what  was  about 
to  happen,  were  standing  around  as  if  undesignedly.  On 
their  faces  could  easily  be  seen  an  expression  of  both  res 
pect  and  sympathy.  Some  of  them  even  ventured  to 
testily  their  appreciation  of  the  act  for  which  he  was 
arrested,  by  coming  up  and  pressing  his  hand. 

While  just  upon  the  drawbridge,  Talbot  turned  to  de 
Lignery  and  said  in  French : 

"  Were  it  not  for  your  Commandant,  Captain,  I  would 
be  glad  to  say  '  au  revoir.'  I'm  sure  he'll  not  trouble  him 
self  to  bid  me  farewell  and  I  don't  want  him  to.  I've  met 
many  brave  Frenchmen  in  this  fort — I  am  constrained  to 
believe  Dumas  himself  is  or  was  one,  as  I  learn  he  took  the 
gallant  Beaujeu's  place  when  he  had  fallen,  and  won, 
against  great  odds,  the  strangest  battle  and  the  most  com 
plete  victory  of  modern  times — but  excuse  me  for  saying, 
I've  nothing  now  but  contempt  for  him ;  he  lacks  morat 
courage,  sir ;  and  I  not  only  brand  him  to  you  as  having  a 
heart  of  stone,  but  as  having,  also,  a  heart  of  hare.  Ile'-a 
an  arrant  coward,  sir ;  I've  told  him  as  much  to  his  face 
and  eo  may  tell  you  to  his  back.  I've  flung  down  my 
glove  before  him,  but  my  challenge  still  remains  unac 
cepted." 

"  I  must  no  longer  listen  to  you,  milord,"  expostulated 
de  Lignery ;  "  it  would  be  ungentlemanly  and  disrespectful 
to  my  superior  officer.  You — " 

"  I  tell  you,  Captain,"  eagerly  interrupted  Talbot,  "  he'« 
base  coiii-  -has  not  the  genuine  ring  about  him.  Tht 


NYMWIIA    CLAIMS    AND   TAKES   TALBOT.  367 

indignities  he  allowed  his  painted  savages  to  inflict  on 
me  are  nothing — I  can  readily  forgive  them — but  the  fiend 
ish  and  inhuman  tortures  he  has  permitted,  under  his  own 
eyes  and  almost  under  the  very  shadow  of  King  Louis' 
flag,  on  a  lot  of  poor,  defenceless,  unfortunate  prisoners 
of  war,  I  can  never — God  may  never — forgive.  He  did 
that  yesterday  which  will  make  his  nights  hideous  for  a 
lifetime.  I  know  not  what  Frenchman  he  was  who  made 
good  my  false  shot,  but  whoever  he  is,  he's  a  man,  every 
inch  of  him,  and  God  will  bless  him,  and  so,  good-bye ;  and 
now,  Nymwha,  lead  on !  " 

Tul hot  turned  and  raised  his  chapeau  to  the  group  of 
French  officers  and  soldiers  who  crowded  the  gateway,  just 
as  the  mournful  "dead  march" — as  played  by  the  fort 
band  accompanying  the  party  sent  out  to  bring  in  the 
body  of  Captain  Beaujeu — could  be  heard  in  the  distance. 
He  walked  rapidly  down  to  the  beach  of  the  Allegheny 
and  was  about  stepping  into  Nyrnwha's  four-paddle  birch 
— liis  canoe  of  State — when  a  soft,  sweet  voice  was  heard 
from  the  bluff — of  course  in  the  French  tongue : 

"  Why,  milord  Talbot,  you're  not  going  to  leave  me 
without  just  one  little  word  of  farewell,  are  you?  This  is 
not  nice  of  you"  (ce  n'est  pas  gentil,)  and  the  petite  and 
pretty  Mademoiselle  Fieury,  with  quite  a  bundle  under  her 
arm,  bustled  her  way  down  to  the  shingle  beach. 

Tulbot  turned  quickly  and  clasped  her  proffered  hand. 
"  Why,  my  dear  mademoiselle,  this  is  too  kind  of  you.  I 
did  think  of  you  but  never  supposed  you  would  think  of 
me,  a  poor  prisoner,  especially  since  the  last  time  I  saw 
you,  I  was  guilty  of  very  rude  and  saucy  words,  for  whici 
I  most  humbly  ask  pardon." 

"  Pooh,  pooh,  milord  1 "  pouted  out  the  little  damsel,  in 
the  most  liquid  of  French,  a  tear  actually  begemming 
each  eye.  "I  pray  you  don't  mention  it — 'twas  nothing,' 
and  so  you're  g^ing  away  among  the  cruel  Indians,  whom 


S68  OLD  FORT  DUQUESNE. 

I  so  aljihor  and  detest?  Your  shot  last  night,  let  me  tell 
you,  my  friend,  is  the  talk  of  the  whole  fort,  and  if 
my  father  and  the  garrison  had  their  way,  they  would 
now  be  firing  the  big  guns  for  you.  You  did  a  noble 
and  merciful  act,  and  the  good  God  will  surely  reward 
it,  and  so  we  think  all." 

It  was  Talbot's  turn  now  to  show  emotion.  There  was  a 
choking  in  his  throat  and  a  tremble  in  his  voice,  as  he 
answered : 

"  Mademoiselle,  this  is  as  unexpected  as  it  is  grateful  to 
me*  You  see,  it  quite  unmans  me.  I  go  much  more  con 
tent  since  I  know  the  respect  and  sympathy  of  even  my 
^ountry's  foes  are  with  me." 

"  Well,  milord,  I  must  not  detain  you.  Old  Nymwha," 
smiling  archly  through  her  tears,  "  is  getting  up  a  terrible 
scowl  on  his  face — thinks  I  want  to  steal  away  his  son. 
Adieu  !  adieu !  Keep  up  a  brave,  merry  heart.  You'll  be 
free  soon ;  we'll  buy  you  off,  I  know  we  will ;  or  if  not,  I'll 
lee  you  often,  as  we'll  be  neighbors,  wont  we?  And  here, 
take  this,"  thrusting  the  bundle  into  his  reluctant  hands 
and  answering  his  inquiring  eyes  with  an — 

"  Oh,  never  fear !  It's  nothing — only  a  few  trifles — 
nick-nacks  and  ladies'  whimsies.  They  may  come  in  use 
some  time,  and  once  more  adieu  1  adieu ! "  and  the  tender 
hearted  little  lady  again  pressed  his  hand  and  walked 
quickly  away,  never  venturing  to  look  behind. 

Talbot  stepped  mechanically  into  the  canoe,  and  sat  him- 
"elf  pensively  on  one  of  the  hickory  thwarts.  Nyrnwha 
gave  a  poweiful  shove,  the  paddlers  commenced  their 
monotonous  chant,  and  the  light  birch  darted  up  the 
Allegheny. 

It  was  some  little  time  before  Talbot,  overcome  by  his 
feelings  and  busy  with  sorrowful  thoughts,  observed  the 
course  now  unexpectedly  taken. 

"  Why,  Nymwha,  how's  this?     I  thought  your  village 


NYMWIIA   CLAIMS   AND   TAKES   TALBOT.  369 

was  on  an  island  several  miles  down  the  Ohio,  while  here 
we  go  up  the  Allegheny." 

The  proud  and  happy  old  Indian,  having  now  Talbot, 
whom  he  really  liked  exceedingly,  all  safe  to  himself, 
seemed  to  smile  all  over  as  he  said : 

"  Little  '  Two-scalps '  tink  true,  but  Nymwha  great, 
rich  chief.  He  have  three  villages ;  one,  two  on  the  broad 
O-hce-yo — one  on  the  Alle-gheu-we.  Big  fight  now  done. 
My  young  men  go  next  sun  far  up  the  Alle-ghen-we.  You 
go,  too.  Kill  much  bear,  deer,  and  buffalo.  Nymwna's 
lodge  never  empty.  Fire  always  burn;  the  meat  and 
hominy  always  cook." 

"  But  how  far  up  is  this  village  of  yours,  Nymwha  ?  " 

"  Oh,  welly  near — close  by — you  see.  Captain  Pipe  and 
Mohican  people  want  to  see  my  new  son.  We  go  to  island 
right  over  river  from  Shannopius." 

"  Shaunopins !  "  excitedly  exclaimed  Talbot,  brightening 
up  amazingly.  "  Why  that's  where  Wau-ki-na  said  she 
lived." 

"  Yes,  Captain  Pipe  and  Wau-ki-na,  the  '  Bounding 
Fawn,'  both  with  Nymwha's  people — want  welly  much  to 
Bee  little  '  Two-scalps '  made  into  sou." 

"  The  deuce  you  say  !  Why  didn't  you  tell  me  that  be 
fore  ?  "  eagerly  starting  forward  and  reaching  for  an  oar. 
"  I'm  tired  sitting,  Nymwha  ;  let  me  take  a  paddle." 

"  No  1  uo !  You'll  turn  over  canoe.  See  how  it  go  this- 
a-way,  that-a-way;  this-a-way,  that-a-way — tipsy-topsy. 
You  do  nothing  till  you  made  into  Indian.  You  look 
welly  glad.  Jglad,  too — all  over  feel  good." 

Talbot  was  fain  to  take  his  seat  again.  In  truth,  hia 
whole  appearance  now  had  changed.  His  cheeks  were 
flushed,  his  eyes  aglow;  a  look  of  glad  and  eager  expecta 
tion  rested  on  bis  handsome  face. 

It  may  as  well  be  stated  here  that  Wau-ki-na  had  taken 
a  deep  hold  oi  fbe  young  man's  mii_d — fur  deeper  than  he 
24 


370  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 

himself  had  any  clear  idea.  He  had  never  stopped  to 
analyze  his  feelings  for  the  Indian  girl,  but  it  was  surely 
no  passing  whim  or  idle  fancy.  Talbot  himself  r?.»y 
have  thought  so,  but  these  matters  very  frequently  gfct 
beyond  one's  control,  and  what  is  oftentime  deemed  a 
transient  caprice  or  a  pleasant  pastime,  turns  out  to  be  a 
deep-rooted  heart-passion — an  important  part  of  a  man's 
we! fare — yes,  of  his  very  life,  inwrought  with  every  fibre 
of  his  being. 

Talbot  now  bethought  him  of  Miss  Fleury's  bundle, 
and  on  opening  it  up  and  searching  down  into  its  depths, 
his  eyes  softened  again  at  the  memory  of  her  delicate 
attention  and  thoughtfulness. 

Here  was  a  package  of  tea,  coffee,  and  salt — there  a 
case  of  needles  and  cushion  of  pins.  Now  he  came  on 
tiny  bundles  of  spices  and  now  upon  thread,  and  buttons, 
and  tape,  and  scissors — and,  of  course,  a  looking-glass. 
There  was  a  little  of  everything  in  this  omnium  gciherum, 
and  much  that  would  be  of  great  use  to  him.  None  but 
a  lady — and  none,  perhaps,  so  well  as  a  French  lady — 
would  have  had  the  tact  to  make  such  a  selection. 

As  he  quietly  and  carefully  tied  up  the  bundle  again, 
the  unuttercd  thought  crossed  his  mind — strange,  passing 
Btrange,  that  away  out  in  this  lone  wilderness,  where  ho 
had  expected  to  see  nothing  but  savage  beasts  or  still  more 
savage  Indians,  his  heart  had  been  stirred  to  its  very 
depths,  and  that,  too,  by  two  women,  whom  he  had  known 
but  a  few  days  and  of  whose  very  existence  even  a  week 
ago  he  had  not  the  slightest  knowledge. 

Yet,  so  it  is  in  life.  A  wiser  and  further-seeing  intel 
ligence  than  anything  human,  happily  guides  and  pro 
vides  all.  When  a  mortal  thinks  he  is  but  drifting,  he  ia 
being  directed;  nearest  a  haven,  when  nothing  but  storm 
and  wild  wave  are  visible.  His  strength  is  weakness,  hia 
life  deatt ,  When  he  feels  safest,  he  is  most  in  danger ; 


NYMWHA   CLAIMS   AND   TAKES   TALBOT. 


371 


happiest,  on  the  very  edge  of  some  big  sorrow;  most 
wretched,  in  the  very  presence  of  the  breaking  clouds  and 
the  rainbow  of  hope  and  promise.  Our  "  sincerest 
laughter  with  some  pain  is  fraught,"  and  life,  humanly 
considered,  is  one  grand  antithesis. 


CHAPTER  LVTI. 

LORD   TALBOT  MADE  A  SHAWNEE  CHIEF. 

Who  is  that  graceful  female  here, 
With  yon  red  hunters  of  the  deer? 
Of  gentle  mien  and  shape,  she  seems 

For  civil  halls  designed; 
Yet  with  the  stately  savage  walks, 

As  she  were  of  his  kind. — Pinckney. 

THE  island — now  known  as  "  Herr's  Island  " — >on  which 
stood  Nymwha's  summer  village  or  rather  camp,  was  soon 
in  full  sight,  and  as  the  canoe  rapidly  approached,  Talbot 
could  distinctly  see  the  low  bluffs  lined  with  Indians  and, 
further  on,  several  canoes  crowded  with  Delawares  crossing 
over  from  Shannopins. 

And  now  the  prow  grates  upon  the  sandy  beach.  Many 
from  the  bank — chiefly,  however,  lads  and  girls,  moved  by 
curiosity  to  see  their  new  young  chief — crowded  down  upon 
the  canoe. 

Talbot  was  the  target  of  hundreds  of  critical  eyes.  He 
bore  the  scrutiny  with  as  much  indifference  as  possible. 
The  smiles  and  jokes  of  the  curious  girls  and  squaws  near 
by,  however,  were  much  harder  to  endure  ;  but  as  he  step 
ped  from  the  boat  upon  the  shingle  with  a  quid-times-  Ccesa- 
remrvehis  sort  of  expression  on  his  fresh  and  handsome  face, 
he  quietly  ignored  the  crowd  around,  while  his  eye  boldly 
swept  the  long  line  of  Indians  on  the  bank  above. 

Nymwha,  with  an  air  of  great  importance,  now  led  the 
way  to  the  bluff.     Here  he  and  Talbot  were  received  with 
grave  dignity,  by  other  Shawnee  chiefs  and  warriors.     The 
372 


LORD   TALBOT   MADE  A  SHAWNEE  CHIEF.  373 

young  Englishman  glanced  around  with  eager  curiosity 
Right  behind  the  grassy  mead  on  which  was  collected  the 
promiscuous  crowd  of  Shawnees  and  Delawares,  stood  tho 
dense  and  luxuriant  forest,  which  was  well  cleared  of  un« 
derbrush. 

The  rude  bark  houses  and  tents  were  scattered  here  and 
there  among  the  beeches,  maples,  and  sycamores,  while 
just  on  the  edge  of  the  woods  stood  the  "  Council  House," 
constructed  of  rough  logs.  The  views  from  the  bank  up 
and  down  the  Allegheny,  and  over  the  plains  and  hills  on 
the  thither  side  of  the  river,  were  beautiful  and  extensive. 

Just  here  Talbot's  roving  eye  beheld  Wau-ki-na,  the  ob 
ject  of  his  anxious  search,  standing  alone  and  leaning 
against  the  trunk  of  a  young  birch.  She  looked — com 
pared  with  others  of  her  sex  around — very,  very  winning. 
His  face  lighted  up  in  a  wonderful  way.  His  whole  man 
ner  changed.  He  gave  a  nod  and  made  a  graceful  gesture 
of  recognition,  but  could  not  fail  to  observe,  however,  that, 
blended  with  the  look  of  pleasure  and  sympathy  on  her 
face,  there  was  a  neio  expression  in  her  eyes.  Her  person 
Beemed  to  have  acquired  an  added  dignity,  while  her  speak 
ing  countenance  fairly  beamed  with  a  mysterious  something 
on  it  which  he  never  had  seen  before.  Not  knowing  the 
great  change  which  had  come  to  her,  he  wondered  while  ha 
admired. 

Nymwha  having  stepped  into  the  Council  House  to 
make  preparations,  Talbot  tripped  lightly  to  the  young 
beauty's  side,  took  her  hand  and  said  earnestly :  "  Well, 
Wau-ki-na,  you  once  invited  me — here  I  am.  We'll  be 
nearer  neighbors  than  I  thought.  You  don't  appear  sc 
glad  as  I  am.  Has  anything  happened  ?  Is  there — " 

Wau-ki-na  touched  his  arm  lightly  and  said  earnestly, 
but  in  low  tones :  "  You  mustn't  speak  pretty  much  to 
Wau-ki-na  now — mustn't  even  look  at  her — Mohicans  not 
like  it.  Do  just  ?.=  Nymwha  say.  Look  glad  and  mak« 


374  OLD   TORT   DUQUESNE. 

tink  you  want  to  be  Indian  chief.  "We  all  go  away  in 
canoe  this  night." 

"  Go  where,  Wau-kina?  and  who  the  deuce  is  all?  What 
mystery's  this  ?  " 

"  Why," — sinking  her  voice  yet  lower  and  speaking 
very  hurriedly — "  Edw — Captain  Jack  and  Scarooyaddy 
and  Marie  all  over  on  the  other  side.  Canoe  at  mouth  of 
run  little  above  Shannopins.  You  ask  Nymwha" — and 
here  a  little  blush  mounted  up  into  her  face — "  let  you 
come  see  Wau-ki-na  this  evening ; — Edward  say  for  me  to 
tell  yoa  this ; — if  he  no  let  you  come,  go  alone  to  de  very 
edge  of  this  island  " — nodding  towards  the  point  meant— 
''and  \vegather  you  up ;  but  must  come  some  way." 

Talbot  stood  breathless  and  excited. 

"  Well,  if  this  isn't  the  strangest ! — you  seem  in  your 
senses,  Kina,  but  if  so,  how  come  you  to  go  along  ?  Is 
Jack  going  to  steal  you  away  from  your  father?  That's 
lot  clever  in  him.  Do  you  really  mean  what  you  say, 
\Vau-ki-na?" 

"  Yes  !   yes !  " — stamping  her  little  foot  impatiently — 

'don't  you  see  the  true  in  my  two  eyes  ?     Wau-ki-na  no 

Xmger  my  name.     I  am  Lucy,  and  Captain  Jack  is  my 

dear  broder," — drawing  herself  up  with  pardonable  pride 

and  dignity. 

"  Whew !  "  exclaimed  Talbot,  with  a  very  much  puzzled 
look,  and  then  a  soft  whistle ;  "  the  little  girl's  clean  daft 
— mad  as  a  March  hare.  Jack's  sister!  What  next? 
Who,  or  what's  done  this,  my  poor  Wau-ki-na?" 

"  Am  no  man's  poor  Wau-lci-na,  I  tell  you  for  true,  but 
Edward's  Lucy.  If  you  no  believe," — a  frown  on  her  face 
and  a  taunt  in  her  tones — ''you  stay  here  and  be  Nym- 
wha's  dear  son.  Here  he  come.  Remember !  "  and  Wau- 
kina  held  up  a  warning  finger  and  glided  rapidly  away. 

Talbot  stood  as  if  stunned — scarcely  knew  what  to  think, 
but  could  no*  help  trusting  Wau-ki-na,  she  looked  so  ear- 


LORD   TALBOT   MADE  A   SIIAWNEE   CHIEF.  375 

fleet  and  sincere.  Just  then  Nymwha  touched  him  on  the 
•boulder.  He  turned  and  saw  some  young  warriors  of 
both  tribes  scowling  ominously  at  him,  evidently  sore  dis 
pleased  at  his  protracted  interview  with  the  "  Bounding 
Fawn."  His  resolve  was  made  to  put  full  faith  in  her 
and  do  as  she  said ;  but  Jack's  sister — that  staggered  him. 

"  All  ready  now.  Little  '  Two-scalps '  must  take  off  his 
first  hair," — removing  Talbot's  curling  wig,  and  exciting 
first  the  wonder  and  then  the  loud  merriment  of  the  on- 
looking  crowd.  "  Now  my  sou  take  off  his  clothes  and  put 
on  '  breech-clout.' " 

"What!"  angrily  exclaimed  Talbot;  "wouldn't  do 
that  for  the  King  of  England !  What  do  you  take  me  for, 
you  copper-colored  omadhowu  ?  " 

"  Nymwha's  son  must  do  jus  as  Nymwha  say,"  grimly 
replied  the  old  Indian,  and  with  a  certain  ugly  look  in  his 
fishy  eyes  ;  and  Talbot,  remembering  Wau-ki-na's  advice, 
thought  so  too,  and  quietly  suffered  himself  to  be  disrobed. 

Nymwha  then  ran  his  hand  over  Talbot's  cropped  hair, 
shook  his  head,  and  said  mournfully :  "  Hair  too  short  to 
pull  out.  Can't  make  any  scalp-lock.  Every  hair  ought 
to  be  out  but  little,  little  bit  here.  Nymwha  so  sorry ; 
but" — brightening  up  a  little — "  must  wait  short  while  till 
it  long  enough  to  catch." 

"  Well,  I'm  plaguy  sorry,  too,  gentle  Father ;  but  here's 
my  finger  and  toe  nails,  or  my  back  teeth,  if  they'd  be  any 
accommodation  to  you." 

"  Now  my  young  men  will  put  on  the  war  paint."  And 
this  the  young  men  aforesaid  proceeded  to  do,  with  much 
more  alacrity  and  enthusiasm  than  Talbot  thought  the  oc 
casion  warranted  ;  but  he  uttered  never  a  word,  and  busily 
put  in  the  time  while  they  were  making  a  striped  zebra  of 
pirn,  with  ghastly  smiles  and  heavy  internal  swearing. 

Nymwha  waited  till  it  was  all  completely  done ;  turned 
Talbot  around  admiringly;  walked  about  him  several 


376  OLD    FORT    DUQUESXE. 

times  with  squinting,  critical  eyes,  just  as  a  connoisseu* 
would  inspect  a  statue,  and  grunted  out : 

"  That's  vely  good — all  fort  paint.  Nymwha's  son  feoj 
much  better,  eh?  " — with  a  horrible  leer  and  grin. 

"  Ye-s-s,  much  better,  thank  you,  Father — nearly  dead, 
I'm  much  obliged  to  you.  If  there's  any  paint  left,  Nym- 
wha,  wouldn't  it  be  well  to  close  up  my  eyes,  nose  and 
mouth,  and  glue  all  my  hair  together?" 

"  No,  no !  you  too  greedy — paint  cost  many  skins." 

Nyniwha  then  threw  over  Talbot's  neck  a  broad  belt  of 
wampum,  and  huge  brass  bands  about  his  hands  and  legs, 
and  then  led  him  out  before  the  crowd  and  gave  the  alarm- 
halloo,  at  which  the  whole  village  came  running  out  and 
Btood  around.  Nynawha  then  took  Talbot  by  the  hand  and 
proceeded  to  make  a  tedious  speech. 

The  modest  young  lord  was  in  perfect  agony.  He 
squirmed  around  and  dropped  his  eyes,  taking  a  somewhat 
Venus-de-Mcdicis  pose,  and  then — as  he  heard  some  twittering 
among  the  young  people — glared  around  fiercely  at  the 
crowd  ;  then  smiled  a  sickly  smile,  and  finally  threw  him 
self  into  a  statuesque  position  and  mentally  wished  his  real 
father  could  see  him  just  then.  He  was  rapidly  forced  to 
the  conclusion  that  if  they  could  all  stand  it,  he  could  ;  but 
worse  yet  was  to  come. 

Nymwha  now  called  up  three  young  squaws,  two  of 
whom  took  Talbot  by  either  hand  and  led  the  way  down 
to  the  river  with  great  solemnity.  When  they  had  gone 
out  to  where  the  water  was  about  two  or  three  feet  -deep — • 
Talbot  all  this  time  as  red  as  a  lobster  with  shame  and  in 
dignation — he  turned  towards  the  bluff  and  saw  it  lined 
with  spectators.  He  then  gazed  as  blandly  as  he  could 
upon  his  fair  tormentors,  who  looked  as  if  they  meant 
business.  He  had  determined  to  change  his  tactics  and 
make  a  virtue  out  of  necessity. 

"If  there  is  no  impropriety  in  the  interrogatory,  young 


LORD   TALEOT   MADE   A   8HA*NEE   CHIEF.  377 

ladies,  I  would  ask  what  you  intend  to  do  with  me — if 
I'm  to  be  murdered,  I'd  like  the  selection  of  my  mode  of 
death  and  place  of  burial." 

The  squaws  laughed,  made  signs  that  he  was  to  wash  off 
the  paint,  and  commenced  noisily  chattering  away  like  so 
many  magpies. 

"  Ladies,"  smilingly  replied  Talbot,  who,  ever  since  he 
had  time  to  reflect  on  Wau-ki-na's  message  and  his  near 
prospect  of  escape,  was  fast  resuming  his  natural  gaiety 
and  friskincss  of  spirits, — "  Ladies,  I  respect  the  natural 
taciturnity  of  your  sex,  and  will  have  to  appeal  to  my 
father.  You  may  speak  Shawnee  grammatically  and  even 
eloquently,  but  I'm  blest  if  it  isn't  all  Greek  to  me.  Here, 
Nymwha! "  turning  around  and  shouting  up  to  him,  "  what 
does  this  mean,  and  what  am  I  to  do  ?  " 

"  You  stand  still — they  no  hurt  you  !  Wash  all  the 
white  blood  out  of  you.  When  you  come  out,  all  ovpr 
Indian." 

"  Oh  I   Thank  you,  Nymwha,  but—" 

At  that  moment  his  feet  were  pushed  from  under  him 
and  down  he  plunged  under  water,  and  came  up  dripping 
and  spluttering  and  rubbing  his  eyes.  Resolving  to  take 
the  joke — which  he  began  now  thoroughly  to  appreciate 
in  all  its  magnitude — he  said  pleasantly : 

"  Excuse  me,  ladies,  for  disappearing  so  abruptly — fact 
is,  I  had  an  appointment  down  below  which  I  was  obliged 
to  keep.  What  next  on  the  programme?  " 

Signs  were  made  that  he  must  rub  off  the  paint,  which 
he  at  once  proceeded  to  do,  swiftly  and  enthusiastically, 
the  squaws  digging  their  knuckles  into  his  face,  back  and 
shoulders.  Then,  seizing  him  by  the  arms,  down  he  went 
again  and  again,  much  to  the  merriment  of  the  multitude, 
who  shouted  and  clapped  their  hands  for  joy,  Nymwha 
dislocating  his  jaw  in  his  loud  guffaws,  which  seemed  to 


878  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 

come  away  up  from  his  moccasins.  lie  was  always  a 
hearty  laugher,  was  Nymwha. 

This  ducking  was  repeated  several  times,  until  the  paint 
was  all  off,  when  Nymwha  descended  to  the  water's  edge 
and  received  him  dripping  and  gasping  from  the  laughing 
squaws,  saying,  "  White  blood  all  gone — you  every  bit 
Shawnee  now.  How  you  like  it  ?  " 

"  Like  what,  the  blood  or  the  washing  ?  "  spluttered  out 
Talbot,  soon  as  he  could  draw  a  free  breath.  "  If  the  latter, 
I  may  frankly,  and  I  hope  without  offence,  say,  I  never 
enjoyed  anything  so  much  in  all  my  born  days.  By  jove  1 
was  sorry  when  the  bell  rang  to  come  out.  'Twas  perfectly 
splendid" 

"You  did  look  much  better,  my  son,  with  much  paint — 
by-by  we  put  on  more." 

"  Did  I  ?  Well  now,  /  thought  I  looked  very  much  like 
my  conception  of  the  devil ;  but,  Nymwha,  as  one  of  your 
own  old  poets  has  well  remarked,  "  Nil  disputanduin  de 
gustibus." 

The  more  grandly  and  unintelligibly  Talbot  talked,  the 
better  the  jocular  old  chief  liked  it.  He  was  manifestly 
as  proud  of  him  as  a  hen  is  of  one  chicken,  and  Talbot 
humored  him  whenever  he  could. 

He  was  now  led  up  to  the  Council  House  again,  and 
there  were  his  Indian  clothes  for  him.  They  put  on  him  a 
pair  of  leggings  decked  off  with  beads  and  feathers ;  then  a 
pair  of  dainty  little  moccasins — an  offering  from  Wau- 
ki-na's  own  hands ;  then  a  sort  of  fringed  hunting  tunic, 
ornamented  with  hair  and  porcupine  quills,  and  fastened 
in  front  with  bear's  teeth,  and  then  a  sort  of  soft  cap  of 
skins. 

It  must  be  confessed  Talbot  looked  much  better  in  this 
fall  Indian  suit  than  in  the  torn,  shabby  and  dilapidated 
clotVes  he  had  lately  cast  off.  He  himself  felt  so,  for  he 


LORD   TALBOT   MADE   A   SHAWNEE   CHIEF. 


379 


had  been  greatly  ashamed  of  the  old  ones,  they  were  so 
scuffed  and  frayed  and  rent. 

Now  they  painted  afresh  his  face  and  neck ;  seated  him 
on  a  bear's  skin  with  pipe  and  kiunekenick ;  tomahawk, 
spunk,  steel  and  rifle,  and  when  all  was  done,  Talbot  made 
as  neat  and  handsome  a  chief  as  ever  led  savages  to  a 
grand  scalp-lifting 


CHAPTER   LVIH 

TALBOT  MAKES  A  GRAND  SENSATION 

But  when  he  pleased  to  show't,  his  speech, 

In  loftiness  of  sound,  was  rich  : 

A  Babylonish  dialect 

Of  patch'd  and  pye-ball'd  languages : 

'Twas  English  cut  on  Greek  and  Latin. 

Sutler's  Hudibrat. 

They  fool  me  to  the  top  of  my  bent. — Hamlet. 

Now  flocked  all  the  chief  Indians  into  the  Council 
House.  For  some  time  a  profound  silence  reigned — every 
one  smoking  as  if  his  very  life  depended  on  it.  At  length 
Nymwha  arose  with  great  dignity  and  addressed  Talbot 
in  Shawnee,  telling  him  he  was  now  his  son  and  a  Shaw- 
nee  chief,  bone  of  his  hone  and  flesh  of  his  flesh  ;  that  by 
the  ceremony  in  the  water  every  drop  of  white  blood  was 
washed  from  his  veins;  that  he  was  admitted  into  the  great 
and  warlike  tribe  of  Shawanos  and  was  adopted  into  a 
powerful  family,  in  room  of  a  great  "  brave,"  and  con 
cluded  thus : 

"  My  dear  son,  you  have  nothing  more  to  fear.  We  are 
now  under  the  same  duty  to  love,  support  and  defend  you 
that  we  are  to  love  and  defend  one  another;  therefore,  you 
are  now  and  from  this  forward  to  consider  yourself  as  one 
of  our  people ;"  and,  according  to  a  strong  old  Indian  law 
and  custom,  thoroughly  tested  and  proved  in  innumerable 
instances  in  American  history,  they  would  have  faithfully 
and  constantly  kept  their  word.  (See  Appendix  Y.) 
380 


TALEOT    MAKES   A    GRAND   SENSATION.  381 

As  this  speech  was  addressed  to  him,  Talbot  could  surely 
do  no  less,  though  not  one  word  of  it  did  he  understand, 
than  rise  and  make  a  profound  bow.  This  he  did  at  the 
conclusion  of  each  speech  that  followed.  In  fact,  lib  new 
clothes  set  him  off  so  well,  and  he  looked  and  acted  so  like 
a  young  "  blood  "  of  an  aristocratic  Indian  chiefly  family, 
that  old  Nymwha  was  perfectly  delighted.  He  seemed  to 
laugh  at  every  feature,  almost  at  every  pore,  and  the  good- 
natured  old  sinner  shuffled  around  as  if  he  wished  to  shake 
hands  with  himself  at  every  step.  His  constant,  effervescing 
happiness  gave  evidence  of  a  perfectly  healthy  liver,  ever 
in  good  working  condition. 

The  speeches  all  over,  the  hilarious  and  ridiculous  old 
gusher  chassdd  over  to  where  Talbot  was  sitting,  quietly 
"  chewing  the  cud  of  sweet  and  bitter  fancy,"  and  giving 
him  a  hearty  thump  on  the  back — intended  to  be  apprecia 
tive  and  encouraging — said  he  must  say  something  to  his 
new  kin  and  friends. 

"  What !  in  Shawnee,  Nymwha  ?  "  plaintively  responded 
Talbot  to  the  thwack,  although  he  felt  at  that  instant  more 
like  throttling  his  venerable  and  playful  papa  for  the  pain 
ful  shock  he  had  just  given  him.  "Shawuee  is  a  far  nobler 
tongue  than  Latin  or  Greek,  but  I  don't  yet  feel  quite  so 
fluent  in  it  that  I  could  extemporize  a  poem  like  an  impro- 
visatore." 

"  No !  no  1  in  English.  It  good  language  for  great  big 
words — better  than  Shawnee  or  Mohigan.  All  Indians 
want  to  hear  you  make  big  speech  in  English — I  no  mind 
what  you  say,  and  Shawnee  no  understand." 

"  Well,  Father,  if  you  say  yea,  I  must  not  say  nay.  So 
here  goes  for  a  war  speech  ;  but  if  I'm  overcome  by  my 
emotion,  don't  fail  to  have  a  stretcher  with  relays  of  our 
young  men  to  carry  me  to  my  royal  couch." 

"  Yes,  dat's  jus  it — big  round  words.  Listen !  chiefs  and 
warriors,  Nymwha's  "on  speaks ! " 


882  OLD   FORT   DUQDESNE. 

Talbot  now  rose  up  slowly  and  with  great  solemnity 
advanced  a  few  steps,  and  then  glanced  deliberately  around 
the  expectant  circle.  He  seemed  to  gather  inspiration 
from  the  wondering  and  admiring  face  of  Wau-ki-na, 
whom  he  just  then  saw  peeping  in  at  the  door. 

Waving  his  hand  majestically,  he  commenced : 

"  Romans,  countrymen  and  lovers ' — Big  Ingun  me  1 
Hear  me  for  my  cause,  and  be  silent  that  you  may  the  bet 
ter  understand !  Quousque  tandem,  0  Catilina !  abutere 
patientii  nostri !  Carpe  diem,  for  the  tempus  is  fugiting 
and  forte  dux  fefellat  in  gutture.  Now  is  the  winter-r-r-r-r  of 
our  discontent  made  gel-1-l-lorious  summer  by  the  sun  of 
York,  and  as  one  of  our  greatest  and  most  eloquent  poets 
has  most  exquisitely  said,  '  make  hay  while  the  sun  shines, 
and  '  time  cuts  down  all,  both  great  and  small.' "  Then, 
quietly  and  impressively,  "  Nymwha,  do  the  chiefs  seem 
greatly  touched?" 

"  Me  no  uuderstan  '  touched,'  but  they  struck — a  heap 
you  too  still — no  jump  roun'  nuff—  more  tunder !  " 

"  Ah,  that's  it,  eh  ?  I  think  I'll  fetch  the  chiefs  now," 
said  Talbot,  and  giving  a  sudden  and  tragical  start,  which 
made  even  Nymwha  jump,  he  hissed  out,  "  Ah-h-h,  an'  if 
thoult  mouth,  I'll  rant  as  well  as  thou.  A  horse !  a  horse  I 
my  kingdom  for  a  horse  !  Slave !  I've  set  my  life  upon  a 
cast  and  I'll  stand  the  hazard  of  the  die !  " 

Then,  going  up  to  Nymwha,  and  taking  from  him  a 
blanket  and  a  long  hunting  knife,  he  looked  round  on  the 
circle  of  glittering  eyes  and  parchment  faces,  and  said  in 
the  most  hollow  and  sepulchral  tones  possible :  "  If  you  have 
tears,  prepare  to  shed  them  now  !  You  all  do  know  this 
mantle,"  holding  it  up.  "  Look !  in  this  place  ran  Cassius' 
dagger  through.  See  what  a  rent  the  envious  Casca  made  ! 
Through  this  the  well-beloved  Brutus  stabbed,  and  as  he 
plucked  his  cursed  steel  away" — giving  a  vicious  lunge  at 


TALBOT   MAKES   A  GRAND   SENSATION.  383 

the  blanket  with  the  knife — "  mar-r-k  how  the  blood  of 
Csesar  followed  it." 

Nymwha,  surprised  and  delighted  at  the  treasure  he  had 
in  his  new  son,  gazed  from  one  to  the  other  of  his  warriors, 
as  much  as  to  say,  "Did  you  ever?" — but  the  greatest 
triumph  was  to  come.  Talbot  now  ran  nimbly  across  the 
floor,  seized  on  Nymwha's  tomahawk,  and  first  feeling  its 
keen  edge  and  looking  as  ferocious  as  he  could,  he  gave  a 
quick  bound  and  striking  a  stage  attitude,  held  the  weapon 
in  mid  air,  glanced  at  it  fiercely  and  commenced : 

"  Is  this  a  dagger  which  I  see  before  me ! — the  handle 
towards  my  breast  ?  Come  1  let  me  clutch  thee !  I  have 
thee  not,  and  yet  I  see  thee  still  I  Ah-h-h,  Erin  go  Bragh ! 
Hip-hip-hurrah ! "  ending  by  casting  the  tomahawk  deep 
iato  one  of  the  logs. 

This  finished  the  whole  business.  Talbot  had  hurled  hia 
hatchet  at  Nymwha's  foes,  and  was  now  ready  to  take  scalps, 
He  was  evidently  one  of  them.  The  entire  circle  of  hideous- 
looking  spectres  was  both  delighted  and  surprised,  but 
Nymwha  most  of  all.  A  big  bowl  and  spoon  were  then 
given  Talbot  for  the  feast  which  was  to  follow,  and  the  show 
was  over. 


CHAPTER  LIX. 

TALBOT  AND   WAU-KI-NA   EXPLAIN 
A.  long,  long  kiss — a  kiss  of  youth  and  love. — Byron, 

Was  ever  woman  in  this  humor  woo'd  ? 
"Was  ever  woman  in  this  humor  won  ? 

Richard  the  Third. 

TALBGT'S  very  dramatic  speech  to  the  Shawnee  chiefs 
put  him  in  such  "  high  feather "  that,  on  emerging  from 
the  Council  House,  he  essayed  a  regular  but  rather 
meek  and  feeble  war-whoop,  which  was  about  as  near  the 
genuine  thing  as  the  jerky  and  conceited  efforts  of  a  young 
cockrel  are  to  the  sonorous  and  pompous  notes  of  a  venera 
ble  old  grandfather  of  a  rooster. 

The  feast  of  "  fat  things  "  followed,  and  the  youthful 
Talbot,  with  his  bowl  and  spoon,  presented  himself  before 
the  range  of  kettles  in  which  were  boiling  venison  and 
bear's  meat,  with  very  much  the  same  aspect  and  attitude 
now  so  well  known  as  "  Oliver  asking  for  more." 

He  had  very  little  "  stomach  for  the  fray "  which  en- 
eued,  but  his  make-believe  was  worthy  of  all  admiration. 
The  girls  and  squaws  eyed  him  askance  and  bent  upon 
him  looks  of  such  evident  admiration,  that  only  the  thick 
coating  of  vermilion  paint  sufficed  to  conceal  the  tell-tale 
blood  which  mounted  to  his  face. 

The  feast  was  closely  followed  by  war-dances  and  songs, 
accompanied  by  the  enrapturing  tum-tum-tum  of  a  stump 
384 


TALBOT  AND   WAU-KI-NA   EXPLAIN.  385 

drum,  and  the  gay  and  inspiring  melodies  caused  by  rat- 
ding  pebbles  in  a  dry  hollow  gourd. 

Then  followed  a  dance,  in  which  the  young  "  braves  " 
stood  in  one  rank  and  the  girls  in  another,  about  a  rod 
apart.  All  sang  and  danced  together,  advancing  towards 
each  other ;  stooping  until  their  heads  were  nearly  touch 
ing  and  then  retreating  and  advancing  again,  intermingling 
brief  remarks  in  a  low  voice  with  their  notes,  and  wooing 
each  other  in  a  rhythmical  sort  of  a  way. 

This  courting  dance — probably  the  origin  of  our  popular 
"  Virginia  Reel," — was  much  more  absorbing  to  the  per 
formers  than  to  on-lookers  ;  and  Talbot,  finding  an  early 
opportunity,  quietly  withdrew,  from  the  crowd,  and  slowly 
sauntered  off  in  the  direction  in  which  he  had  watched 
\Vau-ki-na  disappear  in  the  forest  an  hour  before. 

As  his  moccasined  foot  pressed  the  tender  giass  and 
mosses  of  the  fragrant  woods,  and  the  sounds  of  barbaric 
revelry  died  away  in  the  distance,  the  enamored  young 
Englishman's  face  brightened ;  his  step  became  more 
springy  and  elastic,  and  his  eye  glanced  inquiringly  through 
the  trees  and  under  the  coverts,  if  perchance  he  could  dis 
cover  Wau-ki-na  and  gather  from  her  the  solution  of  the 
late  mystery  and  what  he  had  to  hope  from  the  future. 

It  was  now  late  in  the  afternoon.  The  Delawares  had 
all  returned  to  Shannopins  ;  and  Talbot,  as  he  approached 
the  extreme  end  of  the  island,  seeing  nowhere  traces  of 
Wau-ki-na,  began  to  fear  that  she  too  had  deserted  him. 
His  heart  sank  within  him;  his  eyes  lost  their  lustre, 
and  he  keenly  felt  the  pangs  of  an  utter  solitude  and  de 
sertion. 

And  now  he  turns  toward  the  Delaware  village  and  on 
the  beach  below  him  beholds  a  birch  canoe.  Going  s'Jll 
further  towards  the  island's  head,  he  is  suddenly  arresta1 
by  the  sight  of  Wau-ki-na,  in  an  attitude,  too,  so  full  of 
grace  and  picturesqucness  that  his  senses  are  completely 
25 


586  OLD   FORT    DUQUESNE 

bewitched,  and  under  so  sweet  a  thrall,  that  he  can  do 
naught  but  gaze. 

Just  at  the  very  point  of  the  island,  where  the  bright, 
clear  waters  of  the  Allegheny  were  divided  into  two  swift, 
sparkling  currents,  stood  a  gigantic  sycamore,  its  huge 
roots  washed  bare  by  the  corroding,  encroaching  waters ; 
the  massive  trunk,  with  all  its  weight  of  multitudinous 
branches  and  canopy  of  luxuriant  foliage,  inclined  over 
the  mottled  surface  of  the  dancing  waters. 

On  one  of  these  great,  arching  roots,  her  head  leaning 
wearily  against  the  tree's  smooth  bark,  sat  the  young  and 
artless  girl ;  her  hair — black  as  midnight — fell  in  massy 
luxuriance  over  her  shoulders  and  far  down  her  back. 
Her  face  wore  a  grave,  pensive,  and  yet  anxious  expression, 
and  her  eyes  had  in  them  a  far-off,  dreamy  look,  as  if  the 
discovery  of  her  new  relationship  had  brought  with  it  a  tide 
of  strange  and  serious  thoughts,  which  she  could  not  yet 
fully  fathom. 

She  had,  too,  unlatched  and  taken  off  her  moccasins,  and 
v.'hile  her  hands  clasped  in  a  tight  embrace  the  locket  con 
taining  her  dead  mother's  hair,  her  little  tawny  feet  plashed 
idly  in  the  water,  breaking  it  into  refreshing  and  musicaV 
wimples. 

The  spell  for  Talbot  was  but  momentary.  With  a 
"  Halloo !  Wau-ki-na !  Oh,  but  I'm  glad  to  see  your  sweet 
face  again ! "  he  leaped  down  beside  the  startled  girl,  and 
took  her  hand  in  his. 

This — a  charming  flush  suffusing  her  cheek  the  while — 
she  quietly  withdrew,  and  then  gazing  earnestly  and  criti« 
cally  at  her  painted  companion,  her  whole  face  finally 
dimpled  and  crimpled  with  pleasure  ;  her  eyes  lighted  up 
with  merriment  and  a  musical  little  laugh  rippled  from 
her  lips. 

Talbot  stood  astonished  and  abashed.  At  last  he  said, 
half  poutingly : 


TALBOT   AND    WAU-KI-NA    EXPLAIN.  387 

M  Why,  girl,  this  is  strange  behavior!  I'm  in  the  full 
toggery  of  a  young  Indian  'blood,'  and  yet  you  laugh  right 
in  my  very  face.  It  becomes  you,  lassie,  I  must  confess, 
but  I  don't  like  it." 

"  Me  no  like  it,  too !  "  she  laughed  out,  as  lifting  hci 
nimble  feet  from  the  water,  she  sprang  up,  leaped  to  his 
side,  and,  with  a  charming  naivete,  took  his  hand  and  so 
berly  led  him  to  the  water's  margin,  just  where  the  sun  was 
shining  on  it. 

"  Now,  look  in  there,  sir,  if  please  ;  you  make  a  vely  fine 
little  chief.  Paint  much  good  for  Indian  '  brave,'  but  vely 
bad  for  '  pale-face.'  You  no  look  pretty — no  at  all.  Eyes 
talk,  but  face  not.  Me  know  not  now  what  heart  tinks." 

This  was  touching  Talbot  in  a  tender  point.  An  ardent 
swain  don't  exactly  like  to  be  laughed  at  just  when  he 
thinks  he's  making  a  decided  sensation.  With  a  half  angry 
look,  he  whimpered  : 

"  Well,  Wau-ki-na,  the  colors  are  somewhat  frequent 
and  laid  on  a  trifle  too  loud,  and  I  know  I  look  like  the 
devil ;  but  I  didn't  think  you'd  be  the  first  to  make  sport 
of  your  new  Indian  b-b-brother.  Don't  my  new  clothes  fit 
well  ?  Aint  they  of  the  latest  Shawnee  cut  and  fashion  ?  " 

"  Yes,  yes  !  "  the  mischief  and  archness  fading  out  of  her 
eyes  and  speedily  relapsing  into  seriousness.  "My  new 
brother  do  vely  well ;  but  come !  You  sit  right  there ! 
Wau-ki-na  tink  vely  much  all  day  and  have  someting  to 
say." 

Talbot  had  nothing  to  do  but  obey  the  imperious  little 
beauty,  and  with  a  half-abashed,  half-amused  look,  awaited 
her  words. 

"I  no  longer  Indian  Wau-ki-na,  but  Edward's  sister 
Lucy.  Edward  is  Captain  Jack.  You  know  he.  Ha 
know  you,  and  want  to  take  you  with  him.  Everyting 
ready.  I  now  go  way  in  canoe.  When  dark  come,  Nym- 
wha — he  vely  good  Indian — let  you  come  see  me, — so  my 


S88  OLD    FORT   DUQUESNE. 

brudder  say  for  me  to  tell  you.  If  he  no  let  you,  ccme  to 
dat  big  tree  and  we  paddle  for  you ;  and  oh !  be  sure,  or 
we  must  leave  you !  "  and  her  face  clouded. 

"  I  understand,  and  now  believe,  Kina.  I  suppose  I 
must  wait  for  the  whole  story  from  Jack,  but  the  more  1 
Btiuly  it,  the  less  strange  it  now  appears;  and  I've  been 
thinking,  too,  to-day.  I'm  glad  and  I'm  sorry  to  know 
you're  Lucy." 

"  Why  you  sorry !  eh  ?  Edward  vely  brave,  good,  white 
chief — great  name,  many  friends.  I  love  him  ;  Marie  love 
him ;  everybody  love  him.  Why  sorry  ?  "  and  her  look 
was  earnest  and  searching. 

"  Oh,  Kina," — trying  to  escape  her  frank,  straightfor 
ward  look  and  digging  up  the  sand  with  his  foot.  "  I've 
— you — I  was  learning  to  love  you  so  much  as  an  Indian 
chief's  daughter,  and  I  thought  you  lo — liked  me,  too, 
some,  and  now  I  fear,  while  Jack  finds  a  dear  sister,  that  I 
lose  Wau-ki-na,  a  very,  very — dear — friend." 

There  it  was — quick  as  the  lightning's  flash — nature's 
revelation  to  both.  There  was  the  bold,  arrogant  and  .self- 
confident  young  lord,  who  thought  he  had  been  but  toying 
with  a  pretty  Indian  girl,  now  sitting  abashed  in  her  pres 
ence  ;  his  cheeks  hot ;  his  eyes  cast  down  ;  his  raoccasined 
foot  nervously  scratching  up  the  sand.  And  there  stood 
the  artless,  innocent,  unthinking  girl — the  perfect  child  of 
nature — a  startled  look  in  her  face,  a  bright  flush  on  her 
cheeks,  and  an  unwonted  trouble  in  her  eyes. 

A  silence  ensued,  as  eloquent  as  it  was  embarrassing.  In 
that  brief  minute,  a  strange  and  wondrous  change — human 
yet  divine — had  come  over  both  ;  and  when  at  last  Talbot 
shyly  looked  up  at  Wau-ki-na,  he  saw  her  standing  now 
pal*  and  trembling,  all  the  light  gone  from  her  eyes,  which 
were  cast  down  upon  the  sand.  Finally  she  murmured, 
very  softly: 

"  Me  tink  I  better  go  now.    Me  do  so ;  Marie  watch  for 


TALBOT  AND   WAU-KI-NA   EXrLA<W.  389 

me.  Will  her  friend  bring  Wau-ki-na's  canoe,  here?" 
and  while  the  young  Englishman  hurried  off  to  do  her 
bidding,  she  stooped  down  with  a  much  older  expression 
on  her  face — for  the  first  time  in  her  life,  perhaps, 
breathing  forth  a  sigh — and  deftly  put  on  her  moccasins. 

When  Talbot  returned,  he  looked  more  assured  and  con 
fident,  and  as  he  handed  the  blushing  girl  into  her  birch 
and  extended  to  her  the  paddle,  he  took  first  her  out 
stretched  little  hand  in  his,  and  said : 

"  Wau-ki-na,  before  you  leave  me  here  all  alone,  wont 
you  tell  me  whether  you  care  for  me?  In  finding  the 
brother,  will  you  forget  the  lover?  Youmws£sayl  I  may 
not  meet  you  to-night !  " 

"Oh,  yes,  yes!"  with  a  frightened  look;  "you  must 
come  1  Wau-ki-na  cannot  go  without  you.  Edward  very 
dear  to  me,  but — "  dropping  her  eyes — "  I — he — you — are 
— too,"  and  her  hand  trembled  in  his  as  he  drew  her  to 
wards  him  and  sealed  the  sacred  compact  then  formed 
with  a  long,  warm  kiss  and  embrace. 

Writing  of  the  heart-passages  between  two  young  and 
ardent  lovers  is  such  dull  and  graceless  work  to  all  out 
siders — so  very  far  beneath  the  reality — that  we  are  natu 
rally  silent  as  to  what  followed  ;  but  Wau-ki-na  was  not 
allowed  to  go  so  soon  as  expected,  and  when  the  birch  was 
shoved  off  into  the  stream,  she  looked  gay  and  happy,  and 
he  looked  fond  and  foolish,  and  stood  talking  and  waving 
her  until  she  reached  the  other  shore,  and  with  many  a 
look  behind  and  gesture  of  fond  meaning,  disappeared  over 
the  bank. 

Talbot  now  gave  a  long,  low  whistle,  muttering  to  him- 
Bclf  as  he  turned  toward  his  Indian  home: 

"  Well,  here's  a  rum  go !  Who'd  ha'  thought  it?  My 
lord  Talbot,  scion  of  a  noble  house  which  dates  from  Billy 
the  Conqueror,  mad  in  love  with  an  Indian  maid,  or  al 
best,  with  the  pretty  sister  of  an  American  scout,  an^, 


590  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 

glad  enough  to  be  accepted,  too !  What  would  Lady 
Grace  and  my  haughty,  gouty  old  father  say  to  that?  Oh, 
but  isn't  she  a  little  woodland  fairy,  though  !  and  so  plaguy 
positive,  and  with  such  odd,  cunning  little  ways,  too !  I'm 
cure  bewitched !  Heigh-o  !  wonder  what'll  come  of  it ! " 

He  hadn't  gone  far  before  he  met  Nymwha  out  in  search 
of  him.  The  amiable  old  Chief  scrutinized  him  searchingly, 
with  an  inquiring  leer  on  his  ugly  phiz,  and  said  : 

"  Nymwha  saw  the  birch  of  the  '  Bounding  Fawn  '  just 
now.  She  very  good  Delaware  girl,  beautiful  as  the  wild 
honeysuckle.  Make  pretty  squaw  for  little  .'Two-scalps.' 
What  you  talk  about  ?  eh  ?  " 

"  Oh,"  gravely  answered  Talbot,  "  we  were  discussing  the 
best  way  of  Christianizing  the  red  man  and  teaching  him 
to  worship  God." 

"Oh,  yes,  me  know,"  wisely  put  in  Nymwha.  "God 
the  name  the  Indian  traders  say  all  the  time.  The  more 
fire-water,  the  more  God  and  more  dam,  eh  ?  You  like  to 
go  to  Shannopins  and  see  Wau-ki-na  ?  " 

"  Indeed  would  I,  venerable  old  saddle-bags — this  very 
night,  too ! " 

"Ah,  but  you  sure  no  run  away?  You  come  back 
again  ?  "  looking  at  the  young  man  keenly  and  searchingly. 

Talbot  gravely  took  Nymwha's  hugf  paw  between  his 
own,  pressed  it  feelingly,  looked  solemnly  into  the  old 
Chief's  eyes  and  said  : 

"  Nymwha,  your  island  home  is  very  good,  and  Wau- 
ki-na  is  like  the  wild-rose  of  the  woods  for  sweetness.  I  like 
them  both,  but,"  trying  his  game  of  mystifying  the  old 
Chief  by  big  words,  "  if  a  benignant  Providence  and  the 
nocturnal  darkness  favor  me  to-night,  Iwill  see  you  and  your 
island  in  Halifax  before  I  agitate  my  pedals  here  again." 

Nymwha  essaying  to  gather  meaning  from  the  serious 
manner  of  his  companion  rather  than  from  his  words,  owl- 
jahly  nodded  his  foolish  old  head,  saying : 


TALBOT  AND  tfAU-KI-NA  EXPLAIN. 


391 


a  Yes,  me  tink  so,  too — pretty  much.  The  '  Bounding 
Fawn  '  very  young  and  sweet — make  good  chief's  squaw. 
There's  a  canoe.  You  go  over  by'm  by,  and  call  Wau- 
ki-na  out  of  Delaware  lodge — so,"  and  he  imitated  the 
low,  chirping  note  of  the  cricket. 

The  two  now  entered  the  noisy  camp,  Talbot  sitting 
meekly  down  near  the  Chief's  family  kettle,  and  every  now 
and  then  grinning  amiably  at  mother  Nymwha,  whose  face 
looked  like  u  used-up  old  drumhead,  and  making  mouths  at 
the  divers  juvenile  Nymwhas,  of  various  ages  and  sexes, 
who  were  tumbling  about  on  the  grass  like  a  knot  of 
sportive  earth-worms. 


CHAPTER  LX. 

JACK  AND  PIPE  MEET  IN  CONFLICT 

I  prythee,  take  thy  fingers  from  my  throat ; 

For  though  I  am  not  splenetive  and  rash, 

Yet  have  I  in  me  something  dangerous, 

Which  let  thy  wisdom  fear.     Hold  off  thy  hand !— Hamlet. 

Why,  now  I  see  there's  mettle  in  thee ;  and  even  from  this  instant 
do  build  on  thee  a  better  opinion  than  ever  before. — Othello. 

NIGHT  now  came  over  the  scene,  and  watching  his  tim« 
and  quietly  dropping  out  of  the  fire  light,  the  impatient 
young  nobleman,  his  heart  beating  like  a  small  tilt  ham 
mer,  made  his  way  to  the  beach,  found  the  canoe,  and 
silently  pushed  out  into  the  current. 

Following  Wau-ki-na's  oft-repeated  instructions,  the 
canoe  was  headed  up  stream  till  it  passed  the  end  of  the 
upper  island.  A  landing  on  the  other  side  was  then 
effected,  and  with  commendable  caution  Talbot  crept  down 
the  edge  of  the  wood  and  shore  shadow  line,  and  approached 
the  place  where  was  said  to  be  the  run's  mouth. 

Just  as  he  was  crossing  a  little  reach  of  moonlit  strand  in 
order  to  gain  a  thick  bunchy  copse  of  bushes  and  under 
growth,  a  stalwart  Indian  figure  stepped  out  from  behind 
the  tree  he  had  just  passed,  while  a  pair  of  strong  arma 
stretched  forth  and  seized  him  by  the  throat,  shaking  and 
worrying  him  much  as  a  teriier  would  a  rat. 

While  the  half-suffocated  Talbot  was  slipping  his  hand 
down  for  his  knife,  there  was  hissed  out  in  his  face,  iu 
right  good  English  and  between  the  different  shakes: 
392 


JACK    AND   PIPE   MEET    IN   CONFLICT.  3S3 

"  Tliero !  take  that,  and  that,  and  that,  you  little — trifling 
—skulking — painted — varmint,  you !  I  hate  mightily  to 
take  life  if't  can  be  helped,  but  squeezing  your  wizend 
wont  do — fear  I'll  have  to  knife  you." 

"  Why— Jack !  Jack ! "  gasped  out  Talbot.  "  Con— found 
— your — cur — sed  clumsiness,  you'll  choke  me  to  death  I 
I'm  no  redskin  !  Hands-off,  or  I'll  knife  you!" 

Jack  loosened  his  hold  at  once  and  grasped  his  hand. 

"Why,  Talbot  lad,  delighted  to  see  you  once  more ; 
excuse  me — 'twas  a  fool  trick  in  me.  I  ought  to  have 
known  you,  but  altogether  forgot  your  paint  and  Indian 
dress,  and  was  looking  for  you,  too,  from  the  other  side  of 
the  run.  Am  right  heartily  glad  I  didn't  stick  or  club  you 
as  you  passed." 

"The  pleasure's  mutual,  Captain,  I  do  assure  you," 
replied  Talbot,  half  angrily.  "  They  say  two  soothsayers 
couldn't  meet  in  the  streets  of  Rome  without  laughing  in 
each  other's  face,  and,  by  Jove,  I  think  we  might  do  the 
same.  You're  as  much  Indian  as  I  am  1  But  where 's  the 
Half-King,  and — and — Wau-ki-na  ?  " 

"  My  sister  lAicy  you  mean,  Talbot.  She  has  told  you 
the  strange  discovery.  'Tis  all  true,  every  word  of  it.  I'll 
give  you  the  whole  story  some  time,  but  nmv  crouch  down. 
The  old  Chief's  on  the  watch-out  on  the  other  side  of  the  run, 
and  we  expect  Marie  and  Lucy  every  minute.  From  what  I 
hear,  you've  had  a  rougli  time  at  the  fort  and  among  the 
reddys.  You've  got  a  story  to  tell,  too.  Blamed  if  you  don't 
look  plaguy  chipper  and  saucy  in  your  Shawnee  toggery. 
You  made  a  devilish  narrow  escape  just  now,  though,"  and 
the  scout  gave  out  his  low,  peculiar  laugh,  and  then  fell 
into  a  long  confidential  conversation  with  Talbot,  drawing 
from  him  all  that  had  happened  since  their  parting,  both 
in  and  out  of  the  fort.  Wrhen  Talbot  was  feelingly  relating 
the  dreadful  tortures  of  poor  MacPherson  and  how  the 
attempt  was  made  to  end  his  sufferings,  Jack  suddenly 


594  OLD   FOET   DUQUESNE. 

grasped  his  hand  and  gave  it  a  most  hearty  shake^ 
saying : 

"  And  so,  Talbot,  you  are  the  unknown  who  sped  that 
bold  bullet  and  taught  me  my  duty,  are  you  ?  I  might 
have  guessed  it.  It  does  you  much  honor,  lad,  but  you 
wore  too  far  off.  I'm  proud  I  was  so  near  as  to —  " 

"  What ! "  joyfully  broke  in  Talbot,  equally  surprised  in 
his  turn.  "  Then  you,  Jack,  must  have  been  the  mysterious 
rifleman  who  made  good  my  false  aim.  But  where  could  you 
have  been  ?  I,  too,  was  sure  it  was  a  French  shot  from  the 
fort.  Would  you  mind  giving  me  your  hand  again,  Jack  ?  " 

"  Not  a  mite,  my  lord,  although  it  does  look  sort  of  odd 
and  unfeeling-like  for  us  to  be  congratulating  each  other  on 
our  joint  attempt  on  the  life  of  such  a  noble  comrade  as 
poor  Mac;  but  I  think  I  know  what  Indian  torture  is  and 
the  best  gift  I  could  ask  of  God,  were  I  tied  like  the  poor 
sergeant  to  a  torture  stake,  would  be  a  bullet  in  the  heart 
from  some  friendly  rifle.  My  lord  Talbot,  I  like  your  heart 
and  pluck  and  am  glad  you  go  with  us." 

The  two  now — their  partnership  in  a  merciful  deed 
naving  drawn  them  closer  together  and  increased  their 
mutual  respect — discussed,  in  low  tones,  the  late  events, 
as  well  as  the  plan  of  escape  decided  on  by  the  scout  and 
the  Half-King. 

At  last  a  signal  whistle  from  the  Chief  warned  them  of 
an  approach,  and  soon  Marie  and  Wau-ki-na  were  led 
down  to  the  mouth  of  the  run  by  Scarooyaddy,  and  quietly 
passed  into  the  canoe  in  waiting  under  the  overhanging 
bushes. 

But  little  was  said.  It  was  a  moment  of  great  suspense. 
Talbot  managed,  by  a  tender  pressure  of  the  hand  and  a 
few  whispered  words,  to  assure  Wau-ki-na  of  his  presence. 
He  was  then  introduced  to  Marie  de  Bonneville  by  Jack, 
and  a  place  assigned  him. 

All  VHS  now  ready  for  the  start  and  Jack  was  just  about 


JACK   AND   PIPE   MEET   IN   CONFLICT.  395 

to  whistle  in  the  Half-King,  when  a  crackling  and  rustling 
of  the  bushes  and  smothered  exclamations  were  distinctly 
heard  on  the  village  side  of  the  run. 

"My  God,  Talbot,  the  Chief's  attacked!  Whatever s 
to  be  done  ?  Listen  !  Listen ! " 

The  sounds  of  a  terrific  struggle  were  now  plainly  audi 
ble,  and  then  the  Half-King's  voice,  not  one  tone  louder 
than  necessary  to  be  heard,  saying  in  English: 

"  Shove  off,  my  brother,  and  keep  out  in  the  stream  1 
I'm  beset  by  only  three  Delawares — one  of  whom  I  take 
to  be  Pipe.  I  can  hold  them  till  you  get  fairly  off  and 
then  I'll  yield  me  prisoner.  Never  mind  me,  I'll  get — " 

Here  the  voice  suddenly  ceased,  as  if  a  hand  had  been 
clasped  over  the  mouth,  and  the  sounds  of  the  struggle 
were  again  heard. 

"Talbot,  my  dear  fellow!"  excitedly  whispered  Jack, 
"  I  leave  these  precious  ones  to  you ;  I  know  you'll  defend 
them  with  your  life.  Keep  well  out  in  the  river,  and  when 
a  half  mile  up,  rest  on  your  paddles.  Lucy,  can  you  give 
the  cry  of  a  loon  ?  " 

"  I  can,"  replied  the  frightened  girl,  "  but,  dear  brother, 
would  you  leave  us — Marie  and  me — now?  Wont  you, 
too,  come  into  the  canoe  and  let  Scaroo — " 

"  What !  Lucy,  and  leave  my  old  friend  to  fight  at  such 
odds,  and  with  Pipe,  too,  our  mother's  murderer  and  your 
captor?  'Tis  not  my  sister's  heart  but  her  fears  that  advise 
this— couldn't  do  it.  I'd  go  back  to  fight  Pipe  if  he'd  a 
score  instead  of  only  two  at  his  back.  Take  paddle,  Lucy, 
and  when  you  get  to  where  I  told  you,  rest  awhile,  and 
every  now  and  then  give  the  loon's  cry,  and  if  we  whip  the 
devils,  we'll  soon  know  where  you  are.  If  we  don't,  why 
— God  help  you  all !  Talbot  knows  our  plans  and  you 
must  trust  to  him.  And  now  good-bye,  dearest  Marie  and 
Lucy,  the  Chief  must  be  sore  pressed." 

W'th  this,  Jack  gave  the  canoe  a  powerful  shove,  which 


396  OLD   FORT   DUQUE8NE. 

ehot  it  far  out  into  the  current,  and  then  with  a  low,  sharp 
shout  of  encouragement,  leaped  across  the  run  and  hur 
riedly  made  his  way  to  his  friend. 

"Hold  up,  Chief!"  they  distinctly  heard  him  say 
"  Use  your  rifle  butt  till  I'm  with  ye,  and  then  close  in, 
but  be  sure  to  leave  Pipe  to  me ! " 

After  a  brief  pause — "  Now !  now !  hug  him  close!  Grap 
ple  him  tight,  Chief,  while  I  take  Pipe  !  Ah-h-h !  got  yor 
at  last,  you  double — cursed — murderer — and  kidnapper ! 
I've — hunted — you — long.  Either — you — or — I — have 
got  to  die  this  clinch ! " 

The  two  girls — entwined  in  a  mutual  embrace — sat  pale 
and  breathless  in  the  bow,  while  Talbot  stood,  paddle  in 
hand,  intently  listening  to  every  sound  and  change  of  the 
desperate  fray  going  on  so  near  them.  Now  would  be 
heard  the  cracking  of  twigs,  smothered  groans  and  curses, 
angry  exclamations,  and  even  the  loud  pantings  of  the 
combatants,  as  they  writhed  and  twisted  in  this  terrible 
struggle  to  the  death. 

And  now  the  paddle  was  dipped  and  the  canoe  pro 
ceeded  slowly  up  stream.  They  had  scarce  gone  a  hundred 
yards  before  was  heard  an  attempt  at  a  war-whoop — hoarse 
— broken — feeble — and  finally  ending  in  a  muffled,  spas 
modic  gurgling  and  gasping,  as  though  the  throat  from  which 
it  issued  was  being  pressed  tighter  and  tighter. 

It  was  an  encouraging  sign,  a  cry  of  distress  on  the  part 
of  the  Delawares,  as  if  they  were  being  worsted  and  called 
to  the  village  for  help.  Then  all  was  silent  for  them. 

The  point  where  Talbot  had  left  his  canoe  was  now 
reached.  The  paddles  were  stilled  and  the  three  listened 
anxiously  and  most  intently  for  the  next  sounds.  ^Vhen 
about  a  quarter  of  an  hour  was  thus  passed,  Wau-ki-na — 
for  so  we  most  like  to  call  her — raised  the  clear,  tremulous, 
and  very  peculiar  cry  of  the  loon.  It  was  so  natural  that 
even  Talbo"  looked  around  to  see  whence  it  issued. 


JACK    AND   PIPE   MEET    IN    CONFLICT.  397 

It  was  unnecessary  to  repeat  it  Immediately  after, 
answer  was  beard  from  the  shore,  arid  Till  hot  dashed  in  hia 
paddle  and  would  have  made  straight  for  the  sound,  but 
Wau-ki-na — fully  posted  in  all  Indian  stratagems — was  too 
wary,  and  restrained  him  until  she  could  again  raise  the 
cry,  which  was  again  answered  and  from  a  much  nearer 
point. 

"  Edward,  is  that  you  ?  "  Wau-ki-na  at  last  ventured  to 
say  in  low  but  clear  tones. 

"  Yes !  yes !  the  Half-King  and  me — all  safe  too !  Make 
haste — not  a  moment  to  lose  I  " 

"Thank  God  for  that!"  now  for  the  first  time  spoke 
Marie — -joy  and  deep  feeling  expressed  in  every  tone,  and 
soon  the  prow  grated  on  the  beach,  and  the  two  scouts 
rapidly  and  silently  took  their  places  and  the  paddles. 

"Stay!"  exclaimed  Jack.  "The  Half-King  and  I 
Aad  arranged  some  devices  to  throw  the  Delawares  and 
Shawnees  off  our  trail  and  make  them  think  we  had  es- 
taped  down  the  Allegheny  and  thence  up  the  Mononga- 
nela  by  way  of  Braddock's  route,  but  we've  no  time  for 
that  now.  None  of  them  but  what  will  believe,  at  any 
rate,  that  we  have  gone  down  instead  of  up  the  river.  We 
must  risk  it,  at  all  events.  One  thing  however,  we  must  do. 
Talbot,  where  did  you  leave  your  canoe?  Was  it  a  large 
one?" 

"  It  was,  and  you  see  its  dim  shadow  on  the  beach 
there." 

"Good!"  said  Jack.  "Now,  Lucy  and  Marie,  each 
give  me  some  trifling  article  of  dress — so  !  Come !  Yaddy, 
let's  turn  over  that  canoe,  and  send  it  adrift  down  the 
river." 

The  two  then  drew  out  and  upset  Talbot's  canoe,  let  a 
small  shawl  from  Marie  and  a  gay  ribbon  from  Wau-ki-na 
depend,  in  what  would  be  a  very  natural  sort  of  way,  from 
the  thwarts  of  the  boat,  while  Jack  thrust  an  old  pouch 


398  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 

under  a  sort  ol  scat  in  the  bow,  so  it  would  not  fall  out^ 
and  down  the  canoe  was  borne  by  the  swift  current. 

"  Rather  a  clumsy  fetch,  Yaddy,  isn't  it,  with  which  to 
fool  an  Indian?  but 'tis  the  best  we  can  do  just  now.  It 
may  serve.  And  now,  girls,  we  must  work  hard  all  night 
and  get  a  long,  long  start,  in  case  of  pursuit.  Yaddy  and 
I'll  take  the  paddles — off  we  go." 

And  the  paddles  were  dipped  in  a  slow,  long,  regular 
stroke,  which  had  no  intermission  for  hours.  They  had 
scarce  fallen  regularly  to  work  before  thus  Marie  : 

"But,  Edward,  you  haven't  told  us  of  that  dreadful 
struggle,  the  noise  and  various  changes  of  which  were 
borne  to  our  ears.  Are  you  at  all  hurt  ? " 

"  Not  a  scratch,  Marie — not  a  single  scratch  !  At  one 
time,  while  busy  with  Pipe,  I  got  a  blow  and  a  bear's  hug 
from  the  third  Indian,  which  made  me  see  stars  and  stop 
ped  my  breath,  but  I  managed,  by  a  powerful  effort,  to 
throw  him  off,  and  give  him  a  kick  which  doubled  him  up 
like  a  jack-knife.  But  Yaddy  has  some  beauty  streaks 
about  his  throat  which  will  last  him  a  long  time  instead  of 
wampum  or  paint,  and  will  make  him  as  hoarse  as  a  bull- 
frog  for  a  month  to  come. 

"  Why  when  I  got  up  to  him  the  Chief  had  just  clinched 
with  a  gigantic  old  Delaware,  whose  muscles  stood  out  like 
a  trained  boxer's.  He  was  almost  too  much  for  our  old 
Indian  and  had  him  so  tight  about  the  windpipe  that 
Yaddy  was  making  some  very  odd  noises  and  was  casting 
up  his  eyes  like  a  dying  dolphin.  By-the-by,  how  did  you 
get  out  of  that  scrape,  Yaddy  ?  I  was  too  hard  pressed, 
myself,  to  see." 

"Scarooyaddy  pretty  old,  but  strong  like  the  oak," 
grimly  and  hoarsely  croaked  out  the  old  Chief.  "  He  got 
one  arm  loose  and  work  his  knife  around  so,  until  big  Dela 
ware  much  glad  to  let  go  ;  then  I  have  him.  I  let  him  lie 
and  go  for  Mttle  one.  He  give  me  very  much  trouble.  He 


JACK   AND   PIPE   MEET   IN   CONFLICT.  399 

twist  and  squirm  and  jump  'roun',  but  my  white  brother 
help  me,  and  Scarooyaddy,"  patting  his  girdle,  "  have  two 
more  locks  under  his  skirt." 

"But  Captain  Pipe,  Edward,  what  happened  him?" 
anxiously  inquired  Wau-ki-na,  unable  to  lose  interest  in 
one  who,  although  he  had  murdered  mother  and  sister,  yet 
Btill,  after  an  Indian's  nature,  had  for  so  many  years  )  eeu 
a  father  to  her. 

"  Well,  Lucy,  I  failed  to  kill  him,  as  he  did  our  mother 
and  Emma,  but  I  think  we  are  avenged.  He  made  a  sud 
den  jump  across  the  run  and  crawled  away,  escaping  in  the 
dark,  but  better  for  him  had  he  died  then  and  there.  He 
bears  wounds  which  will  I  think  worry  and  torture  him  to 
the  grave.  'Twas  a  tough  struggle — the  sharpest,  1 1  vink, 
I  ever  had.  The  cruel  old  ruffian  fought  lonj"  and 
.desperately.  No  blow,  or  cut,  or  hug  he  got  fro  A  me 
was  begrudged,  I  can  tell  you.  If  he  informs  the  I  *ela- 
wares  of  this  combat,  they'll  have  to  find  him,  b.  sura 
of  that.  But  enough  of  him ! " 


CHAPTER  LXI. 

THE   ESCAPE   UP   THE   ALLEGHENY, 

0  when  I  am  safe  in  my  sylvan  home, 

1  mock  at  the  pride  of  Greece  and  Rome, 
And  when  I  am  stretch'd  beneath  the  pinea 
Where  the  evening  star  so  holily  shines, 

I  laugh  at  the  love  and  pride  of  man  ; 
At  the  Sophist  schools,  and  the  learned  clan : 
For  what  are  they  all  in  their  high  conceit, 
When  man  in  the  bush  with  God  may  meet. 

£.  W.Emcrion. 

THE  moon  was  now  abroad,  casting  its  silver  sheen  ovei 
the  bright  waters  of  the  Allegheny,  and  bringing  into  view 
the  bold  and  heavily- wooded  hills  which  border  both  sidea 
of  this  most  beautiful  and  picturesque  stream.  The  light 
canoe,  impelled  by  the  practised  paddles  of  men  whose 
nerves  were  like  steel  and  who  knew  not  fatigue,  danced 
over  the  water  "  like  a  thing  of  life."  Island  after  island, 
rapid  after  rapid  were  passed. 

As  mile  upon  mile  sped  rapidly  behind  them,  increasing 
their  distance  from'  enemies  and  lessening  the  danger  of 
successful  pursuit,  the  spirits  of  the  whole  party  arose 
in  proportion,  and  a  free  and  full  conversation  was  in 
dulged  in. 

Jack  told  them  his  plans.  He  had  avoided  the  Brad- 
dock  route  because  he  supposed  it  would  be  beset  with  out 
lying  parties  of  pursurers  and  spoil-gatherers,  and  had 
chosen  what  was  then  everywhere  known  as  the  "  Kittan- 
uing  trail,"  because  it  afforded  a  safer  and  easier  route  of 
400 


THE    ESCAPE   UP   THE   ALLEGHENY.  401 

escape,  and  because  it  led  more  directly  to  his  own  home, 
which  was  at  Aughwick,  where  afterwards  Fort  Shirley 
was  built  and  where  now  the  town  of  Shirleysburg  stands. 

The  "  Kittanning  trail "  was  then  the  broad  and  beaten, 
path — used  for  foot  and  horse  by  Indians  and  traders — 
between  the  West  and  the  Susquehanna.  Commencing  at 
what  is  LOW  called  Kittanning,  Pa.,  and  where  was  at  that 
time  a  large  Delaware  village  under  the  chieftainship  of  the; 
celebrated  and  redoubtable  Captain  Jacobs — it  bore  south-* 
eastwardly,  the  descent  on  the  eastern  slope  of  the  Alle 
gheny  Mountains  being  through  a  gorge,  the  mouth  of 
which  is  about  five  miles  west  of  Holidaysburg  at  what  Is 
well-known  to  this  day  as  Kittanning  Point. 

Thence  this  Indian  path  diverged  into  what  are  now 
called  Scotch,  Canoe,  Hartsog,  and  Woodcock  valleys,  and 
thence  across  Broad  Top  Mountain  into  Aughwick,  and 
after  into  Tuscarora  and  Sherman's  valleys. 

Jack's  design  was  to  stop  about  five  miles  short  of  the 
Delaware  village  at  Kittanning — from  which  point  bloody 
and  devastating  excursions  against  the  frontier  settlements 
were  so  frequent  as  soon  after  to  lead  to  its  destruction  and 
the  death  of  Jacobs — and  making  a  detour,  to  come  into 
the  Indian  trail  somewhere  near  the  present  Armstrong 
and  Indiana  county  line. 

Such  was  the  fear  and  danger  from  pursuit  and  recap 
ture,  that  it  was  considered  better  to  risk  cautious  travel 
in  the  woods  by  day  than  to  lie  by  for  the  night.  Marie 
and  Wau-ki-na  were,  therefore,  urged — in  view  of  the 
fatiguing  march  before  them — to  take  as  much  rest  as  pos 
sible,  and  Talbot  busied  himself  with  great  deftness  and 
delicate  attention  in  fitting  up  for  them  in  the  bow  of  the 
boat  a  temporary  couch  on  which  to  recline. 

All  was  now  still  on  board  the  frail  craft,  and  nothing 
was  heard  around  but  the  steady  and  regular  dip  of  the 
two  paddles,  the  occasional  plash  of  a  fish  in  the  water, 
26 


402  OLD   FORT   DUQUE8NE. 

the  cry  of  loon  or  distant  howl  of  wolf,  and  the  hoot  of  owl 
or  note  of  whippoorwilL 

Such  were  the  weird  witcheries  o.  this  strange  night 
ride;  so  impressive  were  the  stillness,  the  loneliness,  the 
various  notes  and  sounds  so  peculiar  to  the  hour,  that  it 
was  long  before  the  two  maidens — completely  exhausted 
as  they  must  have  been — were  visited  by  the  slumber  so 
much  required. 

At  last  it  came,  softly  and  quietly,  dropping  like  the 
gentle  dew  from  heaven,  causing  Wau-ki-ua's  lips  to  move 
in  the  empty  babblings  of  dreams,  and  bringing  to  Marie 
— who  had  lately  so  much  suffered  and  endured — the  price 
less  blessing  of  total  oblivion. 

Not  a  man  of  them  there,  as  he  watched  those  two  help 
less,  innocent  maidens,  who  did  not  feel  better,  stronger 
more  resolute,  from  their  presence.  To  Jack,  especially — 
who  had  spent  so  many  long  years  of  lonely  vigils  and 
trampings  in  the  gratification  of  a  fierce,  devouring  pas 
sion — his  new-found  first-love  and  Lucy  had  a  wonder 
fully  softening  influence.  The  unbidden  tear  would  noAf 
and  then  follow  his  frequent  glances  back,  and  his  heart 
was  filled  with  tender  and  long-forgotten  emotions.  Even 
Scarooyaddy's  paddle  dipped  noiselessly,  for  fear  the  slum 
bers  might  be  stirred  by  a  plash. 

And  so,  without  pause  or  intermission,  until  the  first 
gray  of  daAvn.  Nothing  to  disturb  but  just  once,  when 
close  to  the  mouth  of  the  Kiskimiuitas,  the  noisy  dash  of 
paddle  and  the  sound  of  voices  gave  notice  of  the  approach 
down  stream  of  Indians.  The  canoe  was  quietly  turned 
toward  the  deep  hill -shadows  along  shore;  the  scouts 
crouched  down  to  a  level  with  the  thwarts ;  perfect  stillness 
was  maintained,  and  the  Delaware  party — probably  from 
Kittanning  on  a  visit  to  the  fort  to  sell  pelts  and  venison 
and  to  bring  back  ammunition — had  passed  on  their  bois 
terous  course. 


THE    ESCAPE   UP   THE   ALLEGHENY.  403 

Marie  and  Wau-ki-na  were  at  last  awakened  by  the 
grating  of  the  boat  on  the  sandy  beach  of  a  snug  little 
cove,  completely  overarched  with  foliage.  They  started, 
marvelled  for  a  moment  at  their  surroundings  and  their 
company,  gave  forth  a  long  sigh  of  relief,  and  arose  smil 
ing  and  almost  gay  at  their  escape.  So  far,  well. 

Talbot  glanced  shyly  at  Wau-ki-na,  tipped  her  a  pleas 
ant  "good  morning,"  and  thought  he  never  saw  the  blush 
ing  and  nut-brown  little  damsel  look  so  divinely. 

Jack  was  as  happy  as  a — yes,  as  the  lord  beside  him ; 
his  face  had  lost  all  its  sternness,  and  a  pleasant  smilo 
played  around  his  handsome  mouth. 

Scarooyaddy,  even,  forgot  all  his  grimness,  and  his  iron 
jaws  opened  and  closed  like  a  steel-trap.  He  smiled  and 
even  grinned  all  over  his  face,  and  insisted  several  times 
that  it  was  a  "  wely  good  moruiii'." 

Oh,  woman  !  woman  !     What  would — 

But  our  readers  can  supply  what  ought  to  be  said  here, 
and  can  follow,  at  pleasure,  the  varied  lines  of  reflections 
which  the  strange  word  suggests. 

"  Well,  gentlemen,  all,"  said  Marie,  "  you've  given  us  a 
very  quiet  ride,  and — "  looking  on  both  green  sides  of  the 
cozy,  peaceful  little  inlet  and  at  the  overhanging  canopy 
.  of  verdure — "  what  a  delightful  change  from  last  night's 
horrors.  Wau-ki-na,  we  must  have  slept  long.  Where 
are  we  now;  and  what  next,  Edward?" 

"  Well,  Marie,  next  for  you  and  Lucy  ought  to  be  horses, 
but  as  none  of  us  are  proud,  and  as  neither  of  you  is  a  min 
cing,  die-away  city  damsel,  guess  you'll  have  to  trudge 
along  on  foot, — sorry,  but  rniist  get  on." 

"  Oh,  Brudder,"  broke  in  Wau-ki-na,  "  we  go  the  best 
and  quickest  on  our  own  feet.  Marie  and  Wau — Lucy  I 
mean — walk,  walk  all  day  through  woods — way  past  Ala- 
quippa's  place.  'Fraid  this  new  little  chief,  though,"  point' 


104  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 

ing  smilingly  to  Talbot,  "  not  go  wely  well.  MoCcasini 
too  thin." 

"  Who — me  f  Wau-ki-na !  What  put  that  odd  notion 
into  your  funny  noddle?  Why,  the  old  chief  there'll  lag 
behind  me;  mother  and  father  Nymvvha'll  be  my  whip  and 
spur.  Why,  since  I've  been  on  this  wilderness  tramp,  I've 
developed  about  sixty-five  distinct  new  muscles,  and  if  my 
moccasins  ain't  good,  who  made  them,  eh  ?  " 

Wau-ki-na  blushed,  looked  shyly  at  Edward,  cast  down 
her  eyes  in  some  confusion,  and  commenced  getting  out  the 
provisions  which  she  and  Marie  had  brought  from  Shan- 
nopins. 

This  abashment  on  the  part  of  his  sister,  did  not  pass 
onnoticed  by  Jack.  He  looked  grave,  then  troubled,  but 
said  nothing. 

After  a  hearty  meal  and  much  pleasant  conversation, 
the  party  rose  to  their  feet  and  prepared  for  the  long  jour 
ney  beibre  them.  The  canoe  was  run  still  further  up  the 
little  cove ;  all  traces  of  their  presence  were  carefully  re 
moved  or  concealed,  and  with  light  steps  they  sprang  from 
stone  to  stone,  following  the  run  a  considerable  distance, 
and  then  mounted  the  bank,  and  commenced  their  journey, 
the  wary  old  chief — to  whom  the  whole  region  was  familiar 
— in  front,  then  Talbot,  Wau-ki-na,  Marie  and  last,  Jack 
— all  in  Indian  file. 

Their  course — guided  by  the  mosses  on  the  north  side  of 
the  thick  trees  and  with  no  beaten  path — was,  in  the  hill 
places,  somewhat  difficult,  but  the  Half-King,  a  life-long 
denizen  of  the  woods,  had  an  Indian's  wonderful  and  un 
erring  sagacity  in  picking  out  the  easiest  directions  and 
the  more  open  woods,  and  the  progress  was,  on  the  whole, 
not  only  rapid,  but  pleasant. 

The  two  girls  never  flagged  or  flinched — in  fact,  their 
spirits  rose  with  every  mile  that  brought  them  nearer  the 
back  settlements  and  that  left  longer  distance  to  pursuit. 


THE   ESCAPE    UP   THE   ALLEGHENY.  405 

Their  raoccasined  feet  plodded  deftly  through  the  intrica 
cies  of  the  forest  way,  and  had  a  springiness  and  airiness 
of  step  which  betokened  long  familiarity  with  wilderness 
tramps.  Talbot  kept  close  behind  the  Chief — at  once 
bothering  and  amusing  him  with  questions  and  conceits ; 
sometimes  talking  too  loud  for  prudence,  and,  irrepressible 
as  ever,  keeping  up  a  running  or  rather  walking  conversa 
tion  with  Wau-ki-na  behind  him. 

Jack  could  not  help  but  observe  the  growing  pleasure 
Talbot  and  his  sister  took  in  each  other's  society.  He 
made  Marie  keep  close  behind  her,  but  for  reasons — pru 
dential  and  sentimental — obvious  to  our  readers,  was  not 
exactly  prepared  to  change  places  with  the  now  gay  young 
lord. 

And  it  was  a  marvel,  too,  to  see  the  old  Scarooyaddy. 
He  seemed  like  some  dusky  spirit  piloting  a  party  over 
Acheron.  Erect,  silent,  solemn,  unerring,  never  hesita 
ting,  turning  neither  to  right  nor  left,  he  glided  rather 
than  walked  in  front.  Planting  his  feet  in  the  same  line 
—one  directly  before  the  other — after  the  universal  Indian 
fashion,  and  stepping  lightly  but  firmly  just  where  his  foot 
would  make  the  least  noise  and  leave  the  least  impression, 
he  went,  true  as  the  needle  and  stealthy  as  the  panther. 

His  roving,  restless  eye  seemed  to  pierce  both  long  dis 
tances  ahead  and  wide  circuits  around ;  not  the  slightest 
object  or  movement  escaped  his  notice — a  bird's  hop  on  a 
bough,  the  rustle  of  a'squirrel  in  the  tree  top,  even  almost 
the  fall  of  a  leaf,  would  still  him  instantly  in  his  track. 

Occasionally,  too,  he  would  stop  and  seat  himself  near 
Borne  pleasant  little  grassy  glade  ;  at  the  foot  of  some  noble 
old  oak  or  beech,  or  by  the  side  of  some  prattling,  babbling 
Btream  or  noisy  waterfall.  He  said  nothing,  but  it  was 
plainly  meant  for  the  girls  behind,  and  when  they  expressed 
pleasure  at  any  view  or  forest  charm  or  beauty,  which  he 
thus  craftily  brought  to  their  notice,  he  would  show  it  La 


106  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 

his  weather-beaten  old  face  by  a  milder  look  in  the  eye  or 
by  softer  lines  about  the  mouth. 

Once,  he  actually  turned  from  the  path  to  pluck  a  wild- 
flower  which  was  flaunting  its  gay  colors  and  wasting  ita 
sweetness  all  unnoticed  in  a  little  dell  by  a  brook  side, 
and  suddenly  turning,  handed  it  with  a  griin  smile  to 
Wau-ki-na. 

"Why,  do  but  watch  the  old  fighting  chief!  "  whispered 
Jack  to  Marie,  "  he's  actually  turning  courtier ;  a  flower's 
about  as  much  in  his  line  as  a  diamond  pin." 

"  Barbarian  as  he  is,  I've  always  found  him  a  brave  and 
gallant  gentleman,"  answered  Marie,  feelingly;  "he's  one 
j)f  nature's  noblemen,  titled  by  God,  and  putting  to  shame 
many  who  bear  the  name  but  know  not  the  meaning  of 
noble." 

"Ah,  Marie,  if  you'd  known  him  as  I've  known  him 
these  long,  long  years  past — as  true  as  steel,  wise  as  ser 
pent,  brave  as  lion,  and  yet,  at  times,  tender  as  a  woman ; 
why,  Marie,  I  actually  love  that  dear  old  fellow,  and  I 
believe  he  loves  me  too." 


CHAPTER  LXII. 

A.  STRANGE  BUT  HAPPY  MEET. 

Oar  fortress  is  the  good  greenwood, 

Our  tent  the  cypress  tree  ; 
We  know  the  forest  round  us 

As  seamen  know  the  sea. 
We  know  its  walls  of  thorny  vines, 

Its  glades  of  reedy  grass, 
Its  safe  and  silent  islands 

Within  the  dark  morass. — Bryant. 

IT  was  now  high  noon,  and  Scarooyaddy  came  to  a 
pause  just  at  the  bottom  of  a  deep  glen  and  by  the  side 
of  a  moss-covered,  pine-crowned  cliff,  and  at  the  foot  of 
a  musical  little  waterfall,  which  tumbled  its  leaping  and 
sparkling  waters  pell-mell,  hurry-scurry,  into  a  cool,  rocky 
basin. 

"  Just  the  very  place  for  lunch,"  cried  Talbot,  in  great 
glee.  "  Here,  Wau-ki-na,  what's  your  bill  of  fare  ?  "  look 
ing  into  the  sack — "jerked  venison,  corn  dodgers,  army 
bread,  cold  hominy,  and  for  dessert,  oh,  yes,  here  it  is— 
hominy,  bread,  corn  cake,  and  venison,  with  some  of  that 
nice  '  Adam's  ale' for  a  bonne  louche.  "Pis  good  enough 
for  a  king — or  at  least  for  a  Half-King ;  eh !  Jack ! " 

The  party  were  evidently  becoming  well-acquainted,  and 
after  a  hearty  meal,  at  which  hunger  gave  the  chief  relish; 
and  a  long  two-hours'  rest  and  much  conversation,  tho 
march  was  bravely  resumed  in  the  same  order  as  before, 
nothing  occurring  to  obstruct  a  constant  progress. 

407 


408  OLD   FORT   DCQUESNE. 

It  was  a  sultry  July  afternoon.  The  walking  had  foi 
some  time  become  a  settled  and  monotonous  trudge ;  all 
conversation  had  nearly  died  away,  when,  finally,  about 
six  of  the  evening  and  just  on  the  long  rise  of  a  hill. 
Jack  said : 

"  Halloo !  Yaddy ;  where  are  we,  and  where  do  we  stop 
to-night?  The  ladies  are  getting  jaded  and  weary  and  I 
tli ink  I  see  Talbot  limping." 

Talbot  stiffened  up  in  an  instant. 

"Me  limping?  Why,  Jack,  you  must  be  blind-tired. 
'Twas  the  Half-King  you  saw.  I'm  as  springy  as  a  foot 
ball.  If  'twereu't  for  these  rough  woods,  I'd  just  like  to 
run  you  a  five-mile  race,  even  weights.  I'd  show  you  what 
our  turfmen  call '  staying  powers,'  but  I  would  like  the* 
course,  if  convenient,  on  a  down  grade." 

"  They  would  be  '  staying  powers,'  indeed,"  laughed  Jack. 
"  But  it's  high  time,  tired  or  not,  for  us  all  to  rest  for  th& 
night.  Where  is  it  to  be,  Chief?  " 

"  Over  the  hill  there — '  Kittanning  path'  near  by.  Beau 
tiful  woods  half-hour  from  here." 

"  "Well,  push  on !  Old  Ironsides.  Bear  up  cheerily, 
Marie  and  Lucy,  'tis  but  a  little  while  longer." 

Now  the  lull  top  is  reached,  and  the  Indian,  as  was  evei 
his  wont,  cast  a  scrutinizing  glance  on  all  sides  and  far  in 
the  front.  He  evidently  saw  at  once  some  suspicious  ob 
ject.  He  gave  a  slight  start  and  gazed  long  and  intently 
at  something  which  had  attracted  his  quick  eye  on  the 
other  side  of  the  valley  below  them,  and  just  in  the  direc 
tion  they  were  going. 

"  How  now,  Chief?  What  d'ye  see  ?  "  said  Jack,  push' 
ing  hastily  to  the  front. 

"Look!" 

Following  the  direction  of  the  Half-King's  finger,  Jack 
•oon  saw  two  clouds  of  blue  smoke  lazily  rising  from  abovt 


A   STRANGE   BUT   HAPPY    MEET.  409 

the  trees  of  a  grove  about  half  a  mile  off— the  very  place 
the  Indian  was  trying  to  reach  for  the  night. 

"  What  d'ye  make  of  it,  Yaddy  ?     Indians  ?  " 

"  Delawares  from  Kittanuing ;  but " — shaking  his  head 
— "  almost  too  much  smoke ;  they  must  fear  nothing.  Right 
on  the  big  trail,  too." 

"  Well,  we've  not  much  to  fear,  either,  I  take  it.  We'll 
etay  here  to-uiglit." 

"  Good ! "  grunted  the  Indian.  "  My  brother  stay  here, 
and  when  the  dtirk  come,  Scarooyaddy  go  see." 

"  Then  I  '  go  see,'  too,"  said  Jack ;  and  so  finally  it  was 
arranged,  and  shortly  after,  leaving  the  two  maidens  in 
care  of  Talbot,  and  strictly  charging  him  on  no  account  to 
move  from  a  sheltered  spot  hard  by  a  rocky  ledge  on  the 
eastern  slope  of  the  hill,  Jack  and  the  Indian  quickly  dis 
appeared  in  the  valley. 

They  were  soon  mounting  the  opposite  hill,  and  just  as 
the  twilight  was  deepening  into  night,  they  cautiously  ap 
proached  the  woods,  above  which  they  had  seen  the 
Binoke. 

And  now,  as  the  brow  of  the  hill  was  reached,  two 
bright  fires  suddenly  appeared  in  near  view,  and  around 
them  and  among  the  trees  a  number  of  figures  were  seen 
standing  or  moving  about. 

Jack  suddenly  clutched  the  old  Indian  tight  by  the 
arm. 

"  Good  heavens,  Chief!  you're  mad  wrong  for  once ! 
Those  fellows  are  white — all  over,  and  every  man  of  them ! 
Who  can  they  be?  and,  eh  !  what,  Chief!  "  as  a  log  just 
thrown  on  the  fire  threw  up  a  burst  of  bright  flame ;  "scalp 
me  alive,  if  they  aint  in  the  dress  of  my  own  brave  hunters ! 
And  look!  man,  look!  Why,  if  there  isn't  Lieutenant 
Hogg,  and  Sergeant  Imbrie,  and  Archy  MacAllister,  and 
Sandy  MacLaughlin,  and  little  Pat  McGuire!  Why, 
turses  on  our  stupid  h^«.ds,  Yaddy,  they're  all  my  (nvn  boys  I 


110  OLD   FOKT   DUQUESNE. 

— my  true  and  tried  Forest  Rangers  I "  and  Jack  at  onoe 
gave  a  loud  and  joyous  hurrah  which  made  the  woods  ring 
again,  and  started  the  whole  troop,  first  to  their  feet  and 
then  to  their  rifles. 

Then  catching  the  Chief  by  the  arm,  and  rapidly  draw 
ing  him  forward,  Jack  ran  right  up  to  the  crowd,  shouting : 
"  Hurrah !  my  boys,  here  we  are  again ! — Jack,  your  own 
leader,  and  the  Half-King !  I  could  almost  cry  for 
joy!" 

And  then  such  a  glad  shout  rose  up  from  Jack's  Ran 
gers  as  would  have  done  your  ears  good  to  hear.  They 
crowded  about  him,  seized  on  his  two  hands,  and  almost 
fairly  lifted  their  beloved  leader  from  the  ground. 

And  then  the  Half-King — well  known  to  the  whole  of 
them — came  in  for  his  share  of  attentions,  and  amid  laughs 
and  shouts  and  questions,  and  "  Why  Caps,"  both  sides 
eommenced  to  realize  the  fortunate  meet. 

"  And  what,  Hogg  and  Mercer,  in  God's  name  !  "  cried 
Jack,  when  he  could  recover  breath  and  get  rid  of  their 
attentions,  "  are  the  '  Rangers '  doing  here,  away  out  on  the 
*Kittanning  trail?'" 

"  We  might  ask  the  same  thing  of  you,  Jack !  "  quickly 
answered  sturdy  Dr.  Hugh  Mercer — afterwards  one  of  the 
best  gen  irals  in  our  Revolutionary  war.  "  You're  about 
as  wide  out  of  your  reckoning  as  we  are!  If  you  desert 
your  company  to  fight  on  your  own  hook,  why,  we  must 
somehow  keep  in  practice,  too.  To  see  the  Delaware  Ja 
cobs  coming  from  Kittanning,  wouldn't  have  stunned  us  a 
whit ;  but  to  see  you — hang  it,  Captain,  it's  kind  o'  knocked 
us!  Has  old  Braddock  taken  that  place,  too?" 

"  Braddock  ?  "  indignantly  answered  Jack.  "  I  tell  you, 
boys,  he's  the  hardest  hit  and  worst  whipped  old  humbug 
you  ever  saw — his  whole  army  completely  cut  up,  and 
what's  left  of  them  racing  through  the  woods  and  over  the 
bills  as  if  the  devil  Mmself  were  after  them.  Oh,  don't 


A   STRANGE    BUT   HAPPY    MEET.  411 

•peak  to  me  about  him  I "  bitterly  continued  Jack ;  "  it 
makes  me  grind  my  teeth  and  gnaw  my  lips  to  even  think 
of  the  vain,  pig-headed  blunderer  I  " 

"  And  when  did  the  battle  come  off?  "  inquired  Hogg. 
"  We  never  heard  a  word  of  it." 

"  Don't  well  see  how  you  could.  It  only  happened  two 
days  since.  I'm  even  now  coming  from  it,  but  in  a  rather 
roundabout  way  ;  but  this  I  must  say,  lads,  and  the  coun 
try  will  bear  me  out  in  it,  that  had  Braddock  accepted  the 
'  Rangers  '  as  his  scouts,  instead  of  insulting  us  and  reject 
ing  our  services,  this  disgraceful  defeat  and  rout  could 
never  have  happened  ;  but  sit  down,  men,  and  I'll  tell  you 
all  about  the  scrimmage." 

And  round  about  their  trusted  leader,  the  whole  com 
pany  of  eighty  as  brave  and  skilful  riflemen  rangers  as  the 
country  could  then  produce,  grouped  themselves  on  the 
grass.  They  were  chiefly -of  Scotch-Irish  stock,  most  of 
them  young,  hardy,  and  reckless  frontiersmen,  who  had, 
with  that  desperate  love  for  adventure  which  characterized 
our  border  population  at  that  time,  been  prompted  to  leave 
the  older  settlements  of  York,  Cumberland  and  Lancaster 
counties,  and  stray  over  into  the  lovely  valleys  and  hunting 
grounds  of  the  Juniata. 

"  Captain  Jack's  Rangers "  were  known  all  along  the 
Allegheny  mountains,  as  far  south  even  as  the  Potomac, 
and  had  been  for  years — but  were  still  more  to  be  in  the 
future — of  incalculable  aid  in  keeping  the  jealous,  maraud 
ing  Indian  tribes,  which  hung  upon  the  skirts  of  civiliza 
tion,  in  check ;  in  repressing  incursions ;  punishing  savage 
robbers  and  murderers ;  recovering  stolen  property,  etc. 

The  conflict  between  them  and  the  ever-hostile  Indian 
bands  was  constant  and  irrepressible ;  and  they  were  even 
now  out  on  an  expedition  to  destroy  Jacob's  Delaware  town 
«t  Kittanning,  when  so  opportunely  met  by  their  leader 
and  advised  of  Braddock's  defeat  and  retreat.  It  was  left 


412  OLD    FORT    DUQUESNE. 

to  Colonel  Armstrong  to  renew  the  expedition  and  carry 
out  its  objects,  the  very  next  year. 

Jack  hurriedly,  and  with  great  animation,  ran  over  the 
stirring  events  which  had  happened  since  he  took  service 
with  Braddock  at  Fort  Cumberland ;  modestly  recounted 
the  chief  incidents  of  the  last  few  days' scouting,  and  ended 
with: 

"  But,  lads,  I've  not  told  ye  all ;  the  strangest  news  is  to 
come.  Yaddy  and  I  have  a  great  secret  for  you,  which 
will  astound  you  more  than  our  unlooked-for  presence. 
We're  not  alone,  and  I'll  soon  beg  leave  to  introduce  to  my 
gallant  free-hunters,  young  lord  Talbot,  of  England,  and 
two  ladies — one  my  own  sister,  many  years  .ago  stolen  and 
adopted  by  Captain  Pipe,  and  the  other  a — a  very  dear 
friend  of  my  youth.  Ah !  no  wonder  you  stare.  I  scarce 
need  ask  of  you  a  hearty  welcome  and  backwoods  hospi 
tality  for  them." 

The  rough  but  warm-hearted  Rangers  stood  about  almost 
incredulous,  and  Jack  had  now  to  acquaint  them  with  as 
much  of  his  story  as  he  wished  them  to  know,  when  Mer 
cer  broke  in : 

"  And  where  did  you  say,  Captain,  your  lady  company 
were?" 

"  But  a  short  half  mile  from  here.  The  Chief  and  I'll 
have  them  here  in  a  jiffy." 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it ! "  hastily  put  in  Lieutenant  Hogg. 
"  Come,  men !  take  rifle  at  once,  and  let  us  make  a  guard 
of  honor  for  our  Captain's  sister  and  friends !  and  Mooney, 
make  ready  two  of  the  pack-horses ;  quick  I  quick !  and 
scurry  after ! " 

A  great  hubbub  now  ensued.  A  sister  of  their  Captain 
found — that  strange,  moody,  reckless  and  mysterious  man 
who  never  was  heard  to  speak  of  family  or  relatives.  It 
was  an  unheard  of  word  and  thought  among  them,  and  all 
was  joy,  excitement  and  curiosity ;  and  soon  the  proud  and 


A  STRANGE  BUT  HAPPY  MEET.         413 

happy  Scarooyaddy,  followed  by  every  single  man  of  the 
company,  except  enough  to  guard  the  camp,  quickly  lea 
the  way  down  the  hill,  across  the  bottom,  and  then  up  the 
other  side  to  where  Talbot  and  the  others — wondering  at 
their  long  absence — anxiously  awaited  in  the  dark  the  re 
turn  of  their  guides  and  protectors. 

The  quick  ear  of  Wau-ki-na — sharpened  by  many  years 
of  Indian  life  and  customs — first  caught  afar  off  the  ap 
proaching  sounds — the  muttered  voices,  the  breaking  of 
twigs  and  branches,  etc.  She  could  not  comprehend,  and 
catching  Talbot's  arm,  hurriedly  called  his  attention. 

"  "What  can  it  be,  Kina  ?  Could  your  brother  be  captured, 
and  can  these  be  Indians  ?  " 

"  No,  no,  me  tink  not — Indians  no  go  that  way — too 
much  noise — can't  be  bears,  nor  panthers,  either — may  be 
a  pack  of  hungry  wolves.  That  would  be  bad.  Oh,  my 
new  brudder's  lost ! " 

"  Well,  whatever  it  be,  girl,  you  and  Miss  Marie  had 
better  slip  around  the  rock  there,  and  hide  yourself  as 
much  as  possible.  I'll  do  all  I  can  to  defend  you  from 
danger." 

It  would  be  foolish  to  say  Talbot  was  calm  and  undis 
mayed.  He  was  not ;  but  had  that  dread  which  comes 
over  every  one,  no  matter  how  brave,  who  knows  a  danger 
approaching,  of  which  he  can  measure  neither  the  kind  nor 
extent.  But  whatever  else  were  of  the  little  lord's  failings, 
want  of  pluck  was  not  one  of  them.  He  was  as  brave  as 
Julius  Csrear,  and  now  seized  his  knife  and  cocked  his  rifle; 
advanced  a  few  steps  to  the  brow  of  the  hill,  and  waited 
ill  alone  and  quietly. 

The  noise  now  ceased,  and  then  another  rustling,  and  a 
shadowy  figure  could  just  be  dimly  seen  a  little  way  down 
the  hill. 

"  Stop ! "  exclaimed  Talbot,  in  a  firm  but  low  voice  j 
"  whoever  or  whatever  you  are,  or  I  shout  I "  and  he  pre» 


414  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 

Bented  his  rifle.  "  Not  a  step  further,  or  you're  a  dead 
man,  if  you  are  a  man !  Can  that  be  you,  Jack  ?  " 

"  That's  me,  Jack,"  cheerily  spoke  out  Jack,  glad  to  find 
Talbot  of  so  much  spirit.  "  I  fell  into  the  rear,  and  just 
thought  that  maybe  we  would  frighten  you  with  so  much 
noise." 

"  Well,  Jack,  I  must  say  it  was  devilish  unkind  ana 
thoughtless  of  you  to  come  on  us  in  that  way.  A  moment 
more  and  I  might  have  done  a  deed  the  memory  of  which 
a  whole  lifetime  couldn't  wipe  out." 

"  Where  are  Marie  and  Wau-ki-na  ?  "  answered  Jack. 

"Around the  rocks  there," said  Talbot,  petulantly;  "but 
they  must  have  better  tempers  than  I  have  if  they  can 
relish  your  little  joke." 

"  Forgive  me,  Talbot ;  'twas  thoughtless  in  me,  but  I'm 
much  upset  myself,  and  thought  only  of  the  pleasure  in 
store  for  you  all.  Besides,  my  boys  got  ahead  of  me." 

"  Why,  Jack,  art  crazy,  man  ?  What  mean  ye  by  your 
'  boys  ? '  Are  you  pushing  still  further  your  sorry  jest  ?  " 

"  Why,  Talbot,  and  Lucy,  and  Marie " — for  these  last 
two,  hearing  his  voice,  had  now  come  up — "  my  whole  com 
pany  of  hunters  is  right  here,  and  with  food  and  horsea 
for  all  three,  and  nothing  more  now  to  fear."  And  the 
proud  and  happy  scout  shook  Talbot  warmly  by  the  hand 
till  his  fingers  ached ;  gave  Lucy  a  tender  embrace,  and 
seemed  about,  in  his  joy  and  excitement,  to  do  the  same 
with  Marie,  but  exchanged  it  just  at  the  last  moment,  for  a 
tender  and  most  affectionate  pressure  of  the  hand. 

"  And  now  come  on,  my  brave  lads,  and  bring  up  your 
horses !  here  are  Lucy,  my  sister ;  Miss  de  Bonneville,  and 
Lord  Talbot  of  England,  who  just  now  had  a  bead  drawn 
on  your  Captain  and  was  near  making  an  unpleasant  corpse 
of  him.  You'll  find  him  a  devilish  clever  fellow,  and  a 
very  tight  little  Shawnee  Chief,  who'd  fight  his  own  shadow, 
although  he  has  washed  off  his  war-paint." 


A   STRANGE   BUT   HAPPY   MEET. 


415 


The  Rangers  now  clustered  about,  while  the  officers  and 
leading  men  came  forward  and  exchanged  greetings  with 
the  ladies,  looking  with  the  greatest  interest  at  Wau-ki-na, 
who  conducted  herself  throughout  with  a  charming  grace 
and  dignity. 


CHAPTER  LXIIL 

JACK   AND  MARIE  BY   THE   RAPIDS. 

That  man  that  hatb  a  tongue,  I  say  is  no  man, 
If  with  his  tongue  he  cannot  win  a  woman. 

Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona. 

I  know  no  ways  to  mince  it  in  love,  but  directly  to  say, 
I  love  you. — Henry  the  Fifth. 

MOUNTED  on  the  horses,  Scarooyaddy  at  Wau-ki-na's 
bridle  piloting  the  way,  and  a  guard  of  Rangers  on  either 
side,  the  little  procession  soon  reached  the  grove  and  the 
bright,  cheery  fires.  By  this  light  the  th^e  had  to  under 
go  a  closer  inspection,  •which,  however,  seemed  to  make 
such  a  favorable  impression,  that  the  whole  camp  was  in  a 
state  of  exuberant  joy  and  hilarity. 

While  some  prepared  a  bountiful  frontier  supper,  others 
arranged  pillions  for  the  morrow's  journey,  and  others  still 
cut  pine  branches  for  a  bower,  and  collected  leaves  and 
robes  for  a  fitting  couch  for  the  lovely  guests.  The  whole 
camp  seemed  richer  for  their  presence,  and  they  were  the 
recipients  of  all  kinds  of  most  respectful  attentions. 

Jack  couldn't  help  but  show  his  gladness  at  the  happy 
turn  matters  had  taken.  He  stole  occasional  glances  at 
M:\rie,  so  full  of  joy  and  regard  that  she  could  scarcely 
misinterpret  them.  The  evening  was  passed  by  the  men 
in  jokes,  and  songs,  and  stories,  the  occasional  peals  of 
laughter  filling  the  sombre  old  forest  with  the  strange 
Bounds. 

416 


JACK  AND   MARIE   BY   THE   RAPIDS.  417 

Jack's  party,  to  which  some  of  his  more  intimate  acqain- 
tanco  were  added,  beguiled  the  time  with  pleasant  conver 
sation,  and  in  going  over  the  events  of  the  past  few  days, 
now  brought  to  such  a  favorable  termination.  Talbot,  as 
often  as  he  could  secure  her  undivided  attention,  devoted 
himself  to  Wau-ki-ua  and  seemed  to  outshine  Jack  in  his 
beaming  looks  of  content. 

The  news  of  Braddock's  defeat  caused  an  immediate 
abandonment  of  the  expedition  against  Kittanuing.  It 
would  have  been  too  risky  to  have  pressed  it  with  such  a 
small  force.  Jack  now  resumed  command  of  his  Rangers, 
aud  gave  out  the  word  for  an  early  start  on  the  morrow 
back  to  the  settlements.  The  hut  of  fragrant  pine  boughs, 
and  the  couch  of  robes  for  the  two  females,  had  long  been 
ready,  and  such  were  the  wearing  fatigues  of  the  day,  that 
soon  after  retirement,  they  fell  into  a  long,  unbroken  slumber. 

It  was  bright  day  when  Jack  awoke.  His  men  were 
busy  about  the  fires  in  preparations  for  a  hunter's  breakfast 
of  game,  and  with  his  mind  unwontedly  filled  with  pleasant 
thoughts,  the  Ranger-scout  sauntered  through  the  fragrant 
woods,  and  soon  came  to  the  edge  of  a  wild  and  sombre 
glen,  adown  which  danced  in  wild  glee  or  in  mad  tumult  a 
great  rush  of  waters. 

At  the  foot  of  this  boisterous  and  foam-covered  rapid, 
and  sitting  pensively  on  a  tree  trunk  close  by  the  margin 
of  the  whirling  eddies,  he  was  astonished  to  see  Marie. 
With  a  start  of  pleased  surprise,  but  with  an  air  that  had 
yet  somewhat  of  embarrassment  in  it,  he  hastened  to  accost 
her. 

"  Why,  Marie,  you're  an  early  bird !  Still  ever  finding 
out  the  romantic  spots.  You're  as  true  a  child  of  the 
woods  as  myself." 

Marie  had  turned  quickly  at  his  roice,  a  rosy  blush,  she 
knew  not  wherefore,  mounting  her  cheek,  and  her  sad  eye 
kindling  with  pleasure. 
27 


418  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 

"  'Tis  part  of  my  life,  I  suppose,  Edward,"  she  gave  au* 
«wer.  "  My  dear  father  was  such  a  very  high  priest  of 
nature,  that  I  could  not  pass  so  many  years  with  him  in 
the  woods  without  sharing  largely  in  his  devout  spirit.  I 
was  just  watching  the  peaceful  gambols  of  those  two  fox- 
squirrels,  and  thinking  how  delightful  it  would  be  when  I, 
like  them,  could  live  undisturbed  by  the  rude  alarms  and 
terrible  shocks  which  have  so  tried  me  of  late.  Is  Lucy 
yet  astir  ?  " 

"  Not  yet,  poor  child.  She  must  be  very,  very  weary. 
'Tis  of  her  I  would  now  talk  to  you,  Marie.  I've  been 
wishing  for  some  time  to  ask  your  opinion  of  her." 

"How  could  you  ask,  Edward?  You  must  already 
know.  She  has  so  much  of  your  mother's  good,  gentle 
woman's  spirit,  that  all  these  years  of  Indian  life  and  com 
panionship,  have  left  her  as  sweet,  as  pure,  and  as  winsomr 
a  creature  as  I  ever  knew.  Don't  fear  Lucy;  she'l 
always  be  a  pride  and  delight  to  you.  I  think  I  know  ho 
thoroughly.  You  must  have  seen  how,  even  before  1 
dreamed  of  her  birth  and  relationship,  I,  and  poor  father, 
too,  always  had  an  unaccountable  affection  for  her." 

"  Marie,  I'm  heartily  glad  to  hear  you  say  this — so  glad, 
you  don't  know.  I  love  her  dearly  already.  It  would  be 
unspeakably  sad  to  know  that  her  wilderness  life,  and  her 
many  years  with  those  marauding  Delawares,  had  spoiled 
or  contaminated  her.  Another  thing  disquiets  me.  I've 
been  watching  closely,  and  fear  she's  taken  a  great  liking 
to  the  young  English  lord.  Have  you  ever  noticed — " 

"  To  speak  frankly,  Edward,  I  have,  but  it  will  wear  off 
with  his  absence,  which  must  now  be  very  near.  Of  course 
he,  looking  on  her  all  along  as  but  a  pretty,  graceful,  and 
winning  Indian  beauty,  does  not  think  of  her  seriously." 

"  No ;  and  what's  more,  by  jove,  he  shall  not,"  flashed 
out  Jack,  angrily.  "If  I  thought  that,  I  would  forbid 
another  word  between  them.  I'm  too  proud  an  American 


JACK  AND   MABIE  BY  THE  RAPIDS.  419 

to  seek  any  such  mesalliance.  You  must  warn  her  how 
ever,  Marie,  at  once.  Better  from  you  than  me.  I'll  keep 
close  eye  on  him,  too,  and  see  that  he  treats  her  just  as  a 
mere  chance  acquaintance.  A  manner  and  style  of  words 
v.'hich  might  not  be  amiss  while  she  was  thought  Pipe's 
daughter,  wouldn't  answer  at  all  now  that  she's  Jack's 
sister.  He  must  part  from  her  at  Aughwick." 

"  And  so,  alas,  must  I.     Perhaps  he — " 

"You!  Marie?  Why,  wha — what  mean  you?  You 
know  your  dying  father  solemnly  charged  me  to  see  you 
safe  to  Philadelphia,  and  do  you  think  I'd  prove  recreant 
to  the  trust  ?  What  have  I  done  to  make  you  think  so 
harshly  of  me?" 

•'  Nothing,  nothing ;  I  do  assure  you,"  with  a  half-fright 
eued  look  at  the  possible  turn  which  she  had  so  uncon 
sciously  precipitated;  "but  I — you — Philadelphia  is  so 
very  far  from  your  home  at  Aughwick,  and  'twould  be  bet 
ter  for  me  to  go  with  Talbot,  since  so  good  an  opportunity 
offers — wouldn't  it  ?  "  looking  down,  her  face  covered  with 
blushes. 

There  it  was  again.  The  time  had  evidently  come  for 
Jack  to  speak,  but  he  couldn't,  but  stood  trembling  before 
her — this  strong,  brave,  stalwart  man — a  choking  in  his 
throat  and  the  beads  of  perspiration  on  his  bare  brow.  At 
length,  controlling  himself  by  a  strong  effort,  he  ap 
proached  gently  and  said  tenderly,  but  decidedly  : 

"  No,  it  wouldn't,  Marie.  No  one  shall  accompany  you 
but  just  myself  and  Wau-ki-na,  whom  I  shall  take  to  the 
city  to  educate.  And  now,  Marie,  I  had  not  intended  to 
speak  of  this  just  here,  and  now,  but  it  is,  perhaps,  better. 
You  know  me  as  a  plain,  blunt,  earnest  man,  of  few  worcta 
and  fewer  pretences.  You  have  known  me  from  boyhood, 
and  my  feelings  then  towards  you.  You  know  the  cruel 
misunderstanding  that  drove  me  from  your  presence — the 
roving,  restless  and  unhappy  life  I've  since  led — the  sin* 


420  OLD    FORT    DUQUESNE. 

galar  manner  in  which  I  found  you  again,  and  now,  so  help 
me  God !  nothing  shall  separate  us  more  but  the  utterance 
of  your  own  lips.  Speak,  Marie,  and  say  if  this  life-long 
love  of  mine,  of  late  so  wonderfully  renewed  and  strength 
ened,  shall  be  in  vain  ? :' 

"I  cannot  speak  only  to  say,  Edward,"  Marie"  falter- 
ingly  replied,  looking  up  at  him,  pale,  but  smiling  through 
her  tears,  "  that.  I  do  know  you  and  trust  you  and  love 
you,"  her  voice  sinking  to  a  gentle  whisper  as  she  extended 
her  hand  to  meet  his. 

"Thanks!  thanks!  dear  Marie,"  joyfully  exclaimed 
Jack,  imprinting  a  most  fervent  kiss  on  her  lips,  and  draw 
ing  her  blushing  face  to  his  bosom.  "I've  waited  long, 
long  weary  years  for  this,  but  I'm  to  be  blest  at  last. 
You've  made  me,  in  truth,  a  happy,  happy  man,  and  now 
no  more  about  leaving  and  all  such  nonsense ; "  and  the 
two  sat  down  together  on  the  tree,  and  went  over  the  past 
and  forecast  the  future,  and  there  is  no  knowing  how  deep 
they  would  have  gone  into  the  day,  had  not  Wau-ki-na, 
fresh  as  a  dew-drop  and  radiant  as  the  morning,  came  trip 
ping  down  upon  them,  joyfully  exclaiming : 

"  Oh,  you  so  naughty  brother.  I  find  you  at  last,  and 
you,  dear  Marie,  you  naughty,  too  " — shaking  her  finger  at 
her.  "  Edward's  men  all  eat  breakfast  and  don't  know 
where  you  be.  Why  you  no  wake  Wau-ki-na  ?  " 

Then  noticing  the  embarrassed  manner  of  each,  she 
peered  saucily  into  his,  and  then  into  her  face,  laughingly 
Baying,  "  What  you  do  here,  and  what  you  say  ?  you  bofe 
look  so  funny  1 " 

"  Oh,  Lucy,"  laughed  Jack  in  a  constrained,  awkward 
sort  of  manner,  "Marie  and  I  were  just  listening  to 
that  water-music,  and  watching  the  antics  of  those  squir- 
*els." 

"What  squirrels?"  looking  around.  "I  no  see  any 
iquirrels." 


JACK   AND   MARIE  BY   THE  RAPIDS.  421 

"  Why,  they  were  racing  along  that  sapling  a  moment 
since,  weren't  they,  Marie  ?  "  It  was  nearly  a  full  hour  be 
fore,  but  lovers  "  take  no  note  of  time  except  from  its  loss." 

"  Oh,  I  know  de  whole  trute,"  said  Wau-ki-na,  suddenly 
springing  to  her  brother's  lap,  putting  her  arms  around  his 
neck,  and  nestling  her  nut-brown  face  against  his  brawny 
breast.  "  You  tink  little  Indian  girl  know  noting,  but  she 
very  cute "  (the  artless  yet  artful  little  minx  had  "  been 
there"  before  them).  "  You  look  wise  and  solemn  as  great 
owls,  and  now  tell  each  other  what  /  know,  and  Mr.  Tal- 
bot  know,  and  everybody  know, — you  love  Marie  and  Marie 
love  you,  and  I — love  bofe  together,"  taking  a  hand  of  each, 
and  laughing  and  crying  at  the  same  time.  "  Oh !  we'll  be 
so  happy." 

"  Well,  Lucy,  you  sly  little  fox,  you've  about  guessed  it 
And  now  since  we're  all  happy  together,  let's  to  breakfast,  for 
I'm  almost  ashamed  to  confess  it,  I'm  as  hungry  as  a  wolf." 

As  Jack  strolled  into  camp,  striving  to  look  as  indif 
ferent  and  unconcerned  as  possible,  he  soon  found  from  the 
sly  glances  and  laughs  and  side-talks  of  his  men,  that  they 
were  no  more  blinded  than  was  Lucy,  and  were  almost  as 
glad,  too. 

The  meal  finished,  the  march  back  along  the  Kittanning 
path  was  speedily  taken  up,  the  rangers  forming  a  sort  of 
escort  about  the  two  horses  on  which  the  girls  were  seated, 
and  as  proud  of  and  as  attentive  to  them  as  if  they  were 
regular  "  daughters  of  the  regiment." 

Nothing  occurred  to  hinder  a  rapid  march.  Whatever 
Indian  parties  were  out,  gave  wide  berth  to  so  large  and 
formidable  a  company.  The  next  day  the  mountains  were 
crossed,  and  finally  Aughwick,  a  new  settlement,  where 
Colonel  Croghan  and  a  number  of  friendly  Indians  resided, 
was  reached. 


CHAPTER  LXIV. 

TALBOT  AND  JACK  HAVE  A  TALK« 

In  truth,  fair  Montague,  I  am  too  foud ; 
And  therefore  thou  may'st  think  my  'haviour  light; 
But  trust  me,  gentleman,  I'll  prove  more  true 
Than  those  that  have  more  cunning  to  be  strange. 

Romeo  and  Juliet. 

THE  morning  after  his  arrival,  Jack  was  sitting  at  the 
door  of  a  rude  log  cabin  of  this  frontier  hamlet,  watching 
the  clumsy  antics  of  a  tame  bear  belonging  to  some  of  the 
Indian  boys,  when  Talbot,  looking  far  better  in  his  Shaw- 
nee  than  in  his  civilized  suit,  approached  him,  but  with  a 
manner  of  some  embarrassment. 

"  Well,  Captain,  so  far  on  our  way  back  to  civilization  ; 
and  then,  ho  !  for  dear  old  England  again." 

"  Why,  Talbot,  have  you  tired  of  our  wild  woods  and 
rude  frontier  life  so  soon,  that  you  would  thus  take  'French 
leave'  of  us.  It's  rough,  but  it's  exciting." 

"  No,  no ;  but  now  that  our  English  army  has  been  so 
badly  defeated,  I  have  somewhat  lost  my  interest  in  the 
country,  but  not  in  its  people,  Jack,  I  do  assure  you. 
And  what  do  you  intend  to  do  now? " 

"  A  question  more  easily  asked  than  answered,  Talbot. 
Since  Braddock's  defeat,  this  exposed  frontier  post  must  be 
at  once  abandoned.  I  am  on  my  road,  with  my  hunters 
and  the  settlers,  to  Harris'  Ferry,  there  to  consult  with  the 
Paxton  Rangers,  and  see  what  the  government  at  Phila 
delphia  are  q;oing  to  do  at  this  crisis,  for  I  take  it  as  a  mat- 
422 


TALBOT   AND  JACK   HAVE  A   TALK.  423 

ter  of  course,  Dunbar's  shackeldy  mob  of  an  army  is  by 
this  time  fleeing  like  the  wind  back  to  Fort  Cumberland, 
and  the  whole  range  of  frontier  valleys  will  soon  be  alive 
with  those  cursed,  scalping  thieves  of  redskins.  We  start 
to-morrow,  early.  You  will  probably  go  on  to-day  ?  " 

"  By  no  means.  I  stay  with  your  Rangers,  and  with 
Wau — Lucy,  I  mean." 

"  Yes,  her  Indian  name  had  better  be  dropped  now,  as 
will  soon  your  acquaintance  with  her.  She — well,  indeed, 
all  of  us — will  ever  remind  you  of  a  strange,  although  I 
hope  not  an  unpleasant,  episode  in  your  roving  life." 

"  Why,  Jack,  it  Is  of  your  sister  I  would  like  to  speak 
*fith  you  a  moment." 

"  And  what  can  Lord  Talbot  have  to  say  about  my  sis 
ter,"  said  Jack,  unconsciously,  perhaps,  assuming  a  stern 
and  haughty  air,  which  threw  the  Englishman  into  a  state 
of  nervous  embarrassment. 

"Why,  this,  Captain,  that  I  have  taken  a  desperate 
jking  to  her,  and  I  think  she — that  is  to  say  I  hope — " 

"  She's  taken  the  same  to  you ;  is  that  it  ?  " 

"  Why,  yes,  I— she— " 

"  And  you  haven't  dared  to  tell  her  this,"  flashed  Jack, 
an  ominous  frown  on  his  brow  and  a  dangerous  light  gath 
ering  in  his  eye. 

"  Why,  yes,  Jack,  I  did,  and  also,  that — " 

"  What !  after  or  before  you  knew  she  was  my  sister  ?  " 

"  After.  It  was  that  very  discovery  that  made  me  hasten 
it,"  said  Talbot,  bristling  up  in  his  turn. 

"  Why,  Talbot,"  said  Jack,  rising  and  sternly  confronting 
the  little  lord,  who  seemed  to  grow  smaller  as  the  scout 
rose  to  his  full  proportions,  "  by  heavens,  this  is  unpardon 
able — 'tis  almost  an  insult.  You  should  have  known,  sir, 
whatever  may  have  been  your  humors  as  regards  Indian 
girls,  that  one  so  near  to  me  is  not  to  be  trifled  with." 

"  Trifled  with,  Jack  I — why,  man,  I'm  in  dead  earnest 


424  OLD   FORT  DUQUESNE. 

never  was  more  serious  in  my  life.  If  to  love  a  pure,  sweety 
lovely  girl  with  all  one's  heart  and  soul,  and  with  the  most 
respectful  and  honorable  intentions  of  marriage  is  an  insult, 
why,  then,  it  does  not  come  from  me,  but  from  the  fact." 

"  Pshaw !  Talbot,"  answered  Jack,  but  evidently  with  a 
more  softened  manner,  "  I  didn't  think  you  could  be  such 
a  goose.  If  you're  in  earnest,  as  you  say,  more's  the  pity." 

"  Why,  Jack,  this  language  is  rude  and  contemptuous. 
From  any  other  I  could  not  and  would  not  endure  it.  Do 
you  mean  to  intimate  that  my  rank  and  family  are  not 
good  en — " 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  know.  They're  far  too  good  in  the  estima 
tion  of  your  relatives  and  countrymen — not  a  whit  too  good 
in  my  opinion.  Look  here,  my  lad,  let's  talk  sense  1  Briefly 
and  finally,  I,  as  an  American,  am  too  proud  and  have 
too  much  self-respect  to  ally  me  or  mine  to  a  foreigner  of 
rank,  and  least  of  all  to  an  Englishman,  where  the  feeling 
of  caste  is  as  strong  as  among  the  Indian  Brahmins,  and 
where  a  man  is  not  so  much  esteemed  for  what  he  is  him 
self,  as  for  who  was  his  great-great-great-graudfather.' 

"  Yes,  but  Jack,  my  family  are  not  of  that  kind,  and  will 
surely  welcome  the  object  of  my  choice.  Lucy  is  my  choice, 
and—" 

"Yes ;  well,  we  wont  risk  it,"  rather  sneered  Jack.  "  Love 
for  you  might  make  your  family  tolerant  of  her.  'Twould 
be  a  actable  exception  if  it  did,  but  English  society  would 
turn  their  backs  on  a  simple  American  girl,  without  dower 
or  pedigree — and  she  too  raised  among  Indians.  No!  no! 
Talbot,  don't  mention  the  matter  again !  'Tis  offensive. 
What  you  call  your  love  is  but  a  passing  whim,  born  of  the 
occasion  and  the  singular  circumstances  which  have  thrown 
you  two  together." 

"  Jack,  you're  hard  on  me,"  answered  Talbot,  with  much 
feeling,  greatly  hurt  rather  than  angry.  "  Be  more  just 
You  love  Miss  de  Bonneville,  and  intend  very  shortly  to 


TALBOT  AND  JACK  HAVE  A  TALK.        425 

narry  her.  (Here  Jack  winced.)  Is  it  strange  that  I 
should  wish  to  do  the  same  with  Lucy  ?  You  wouldn't 
compliment  your  own  judgment  and  Miss  de  Bonueville'a 
merits  at  the  expense  of  my  taste  and  the  charms  of  your 
own  sister,  would  you  ?  " 

"  Well,  Talbot,  that's  well  put — rather  a  neat  turn  on 
me — what  the  Philadelphia  lawyers  used  to  call  when  I 
was  there,  the  argumentwn  ad  hwninem,"  laughed  out  Jack, 
now  completely  disarmed.  "  I'll  tell  you  how  we'll  leave 
the  matter.  You  think  you  love  Lucy.  /  am  sure  it  is  a 
passing  whim,  which  will  vanish  when  you  come  among 
the  stately  English  beauties  of  your  own  rank  and  station, 
if  it  do  not  even  before.  Now,  I'll  question  Lucy  at  once : 
if  I  find  she  sincerely  returns  your  affection  you  may,  if 
you  please,  accompany  us  as  far  as  Philadelphia,  where  I 
intend  putting  her  in  good  hands  for  at  least  two  years  to 
be  educated  and  accomplished.  You  pledge  me  your  word 
that,  until  you  leave  the  country,  you  will  act  towards  her 
only  as  a  friend,  and  not  as  the  ardent  and  devoted  lover. 
At  the  end  of  two  years,  if  your  love  stands  the  test  of 
time,  and  your  family  give  their  full  consent  to  the  mar« 
riage,  Lucy  is  free  to  take  or  reject  you,  as  she  may  then 
feel  inclined.  What  say  you  ?  " 

"  That  your  terms  are  hard — very  hard,  but  I  acknow 
ledge  your  right  to  impose  conditions.  Say  one  year,  and 
I  accept  them." 

"  Not  a  month  less.  I  am  proud  to  know  Lucy  is  a 
pure,  sweet,  good  girl,  singularly  uncontaminated  by  her 
life  and  associations ;  but  you  know  how  and  among  whom 
she  has  passed  her  days,  and  it  will  require  full  that  time," 
f-aid  Jack,  with  a  peculiar  uncredulous  smile  showing  itself 
'or  a  moment  on  his  lips,  "  to  fit  her  for  the  exalted  posi 
tion  she's  to  occupy.  What  do  you  decide  ?  " 

"  That  I  must  accept,  but  will  keep  her  company  until 
my  departure.  Should  my  family  refuse  their  consent,  by 


126  OLD   FORT   DUQTJESNE. 

jove  1  I'll  return  and  live  in  America,  and  cut  my  own 
way.  I  swear — " 

" '  Swear  not  at  all,'  one  good  book  says,  and  another, 
1  lovers'  vows  are  false  as  dicers'  oaths,' "  laughingly  replied 
Jack,  as  he  sauntered  off  to  a  little  sugar  grove  where  his 
men  were  encamped. 

That  same  evening  Jack  had  a  long  and  confidential 
conversation  with  Marie,  in  which — among  other  matters 
— they  fully  discussed  the  affair  between  Talbot  and  Lucy. 
Marie  finally  disappeared  in  the  cabin,  and  sent  the  uii- 
thinkiug  girl  out  to  her  brother.  She  seemed — scarce 
knowing  why — somewhat  shy  and  flustered  before  a  pecu 
liar  grave  look  in  his  face,  but  tripped  lightly  up  to  hia 
side,  took  his  hand  between  both  of  hers,  and  said : 

"  Edward,  I'm  so  glad  you  be  Lucy's  brother.  I  never 
leave  you — not  any  more.  I  learn  to  talk  English  very 
fast — seems  as  if  I  knew  it  all  before,  and  " — here  a  slight 
Hesitation — "  and,  Mr.  Talbot  take  much  trouble  to  teach 
me." 

"He  does,  does  he,  Lucy?  Well,"  looking  steadily 
into  her  face  and  dark  eyes,  "  and  what  do  you  think  of 
him?" 

"Him?  oh,  he  talk  so  fast,  and  some  words  I  'fraid 
very  bad." 

"  Pshaw !  little  simpleton,  what  do  you  think  of  him — 
as  a  man,  I  mean  ? " 

"  A  man  ?  Why  he  very  nice,  pretty  little  man — not 
BO  broad  and  strong  like  you,  Edward,  and  his  hair  too 
Btiff,  and  not  long  and  curly  like  my  own  brother's ;  but 
he  have  soft  eyes,  just  like  a  fawn's,  and  very,  very  sweet 
imile." 

Nonsense,  thought  Jack.  What  use  in  questioning  her 
artlessness.  She's  innocent  as  a  child,  as  indeed,  a  child 
•he  is. 

"  Lucy,  you've  seen  a  good  deal  of  Talbot  lately.    Be- 


TALBOT   AND   JACK    HAVE   A    TALK.  427 

Jbre  he  and  you  knew  I  was  your  brother  did  he  ever  say 
\nything  to  you  improper  ?  " 

Lucy  looked  at  him  with  wondering,  questioning  eyes. 
u  I  don't  know  that  word,  Edward.  What  does  it  say  ?  " 

"  I  mean  did  he  ever  say  anything  to  make  your  cheeks 
blush — anything  he  ought  not  to  have  said  to  a  young 
innocent  maiden  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  Edward ; "  showing  him  then  how  charmingly 
her  cheeks  could  blush.  "  He  told  me  I  was  the  prettiest 
and  sauciest  little  witch  he  ever  saw,  and  that  I  had  a  very 
funny  little  nose,  and  a  dear,  weeny-teeny  foot,  and  that 
some  fine  day  he  would  like  to  make  me  his  little  Indian 
wife." 

"  What  more,  Lucy  ?  " 

"  More  ?  not  much  till  that  day  on  the  island  when  I  told 
him  you  was  my  dear  brother,  then  he  said  if  I  loved  him 
ne  would  make  me  his  little  wife.  He  would,  '  by  Jove,' 
dey  were  his  very  words.  Who  can  Jove  be,  Edward  ? 
some  dear  friend  ?  I  'spect." 

"  And  then  what  did  you  say  ?  "  laughed  Jack  in  spite 
of  himself,  his  regard  for  Talbot's  prudence  and  sincerity 
evidently  increasing. 

"  Let's  see ;  I  most  forget,  Edward — so  long  ago — but 
I'm  sure  I  told  him  I  loved  him,  and,  I  tink,  Jove,  too." 

"  You  did,  you  queer  little  riddle.  And  when  was  all 
this?— before— " 

"  Yes,  before  you  told  Marie — on  that  log,  you  know, 
you  were  so  long  time  busy  watching  squirrels — that  you 
loved  her,  and  she  told  you  if  so  you  did,  why  then  she 
loved  you." 

"  Nonsense !  Lucy.  I  don't  believe  you're  near  as  art 
less  as  you  look,  and  why  didn't  you  tell  me  all  this 
Before  ? " 

"  Why,  Edward,  you  never  told  Lucy  that  you  loved 
Marie.  I  had  to  find  it  with  my  own  two  eyes.  First 


J28  OLD   FORT    DUQUESNE. 

thing  I  see — down  on  that  same  tree,  you  know — you  tak« 
her  face,  and  draw  it  towards  you,  and  then- — " 

"  Oh,  silence,  you  little  blather,  I'm  in  too  awkward  a  fix 
myself  to  make  much  out  of  you.  But  now  let  me  ask  you 
seriously ;  do  you  think  you  really  care  enough  for  Talbct 
to  be  willing  to  be  his  wife  ?  Have  you  ever  thojght  of 
that?" 

"  Y-e-e-s,  Edward,  I  tink  I  have,  but" — her  eyes  appeal 
ing  brim  full  of  mischief — "  he  just  little,  little  bit  too 
short.  Why  he  no  taller  than  me ;  no  higher  than  the 
fringe  on  your  hunting-shirt." 

"  Oh,  run  away  into  the  cabin,  Lucy,  I  can't  make  any 
thing  out  of  you,  but  first  let  me  warn  you  to  be  very  stiff 
and  proud — so — before  Talbot,  while  we  are  going  to  the 
big  city." 

"  I  will,  Edward,"  very  demurely.  "  I  be  very  proud. 
When  he  say  he  go  away  over  the  big  water,  I  look  so  " — 
putting  on  a  pensive  and  pouty  expression,  "  and  when  he 
take  my  hand  and  kiss  and  hurt  it — just  as  I  saw  you  kiss 
and  hurt  poor  Marie's  to-day — I  look  so,"  and  the  little 
mischief  drew  herself  up  haughtily,  frowned  severely,  and 
looked  as  stern  as  possible,  until  Jack  had  to  burst  into  a 
hearty  laugh,  as  he  turned  away. 

Wau-ki-na  tripped  back  towards  the  cabin  with  a  con 
scious  look  of  triumph  on  her  face,  as  much  as  to  say, 
"  Didn't  I  get  through  that  well  ?  "  and  just  as  she  was 
entering  the  door,  she  turned  and  gave  her  brother  this 
parting  shot,  "  Oh,  I  behave  myself  very  much — you  don't 
know.  I  not  so  wise  as  Marie,  but  then  I'm  so  young  and 
little  Indian  maid,  but  I  watch  you  two  all  the  time. 
Then  I  learn  so  fast,  and  do  just  right." 

Early  next  morning  they  were  on  their  march  to  John 
Harris'  Ferry  (now  Harrisburg),  which  they  reached  with 
out  incident  of  note.  Here  they  found  all  in  a  state  of 
excitement.  The  news  of  Braddock's  disaster  had  but  jual 


TALBOT   AND   JACK   HAVE   A   TALK. 


429 


reacted  them,  and  the  Paxton  Rangers  were  out  with 
their  Colonel,  the  Rev.  Mr.  Elder — the  "  fighting  par 
son,"  as  he  was  called  ;  for  many  years  pastor  of  the  Scotch- 
Irish  churches  at  Paxton  and  Derry— dressed  in  his  cocked 
hat,  and  with  rifle  on  shoulder. 


CHAPTER  LXV. 

A   MARRIAGE   IN  THE   WOODS. 

The  groves  were  God's  first  temples.    Ere  man  learned 

To  hew  the  shaft  and  lay  the  architrave, 

And  spread  the  roof  above  them ;  in  the  darkling  wood, 

Amid  the  cool  and  silence,  he  knelt  down 

And  offered  to  the  Mightiest,  solemn  thanks 

And  supplication. — Bryant. 

THE  welcome  accorded  by  the  Paxton  Rangers  to  Capt 
Jack's  scouts,  and  especially  to  the  ladies  in  their  company; 
was  most  warm  and  cordial.  As  yet  they  had  only  heard 
a  flying  rumor  of  Braddock's  disgraceful  defeat — but  Jack, 
who  had  been  actually  in  the  thickest  of  the  fight,  and 
who  had  afterwards  witnessed  on  Smoky  Island  the  inhu 
man  tortures  of  the  prisoners,  was  enabled  to  give  full 
details. 

These  brave  but  rude  and  unlettered  frontiersmen  hung 
on  his  every  word,  and  when  the  full  extent  of  the  disaster 
was  known,  there  was  an  anxious  discussion  of  its  probable 
rasults.  All  agreed  that  the  whole  border — unprotected 
as  it  was — would  necessarily  be  exposed  to  the  fell  sweep 
of  French-Indian  incursions. 

The  brave  and  greatly  beloved  Rev.  Col.  Elder — with 

his  small  cocked  hat  and  his  long  rifle  swung  on  shoulder 

—counselled  a  general  banding  along  the  Susquehanna  foi 

mutual  protection,  and  made  vouch  for  the  fighting  quali 

490 


A   MARRIAGE   IX  THE  WOODS.  431 

ties  of  the  Scotch-Irish  boys  of  Partcn,  Deny,  Hanover 
and  Donegal. 

Capt.  Lazarus  Stewart,  a  daring  partizan  of  unusual  in 
fluence  in  those  days — he  who  a  few  years  afterwards  led 
the  cruel  attack  on  the  Conestoga  Indians,  and  subse 
quently  the  slaughter  of  the  survivors  placed  in  the  Lan 
caster  jail  for  protection — backed  up  his  pastor,  and  ad 
vised  the  erection  of  block  houses  and  a  general  muster  of 
the  fighting  men  of  the  frontier. 

And  there,  too,  was  John  Harris,  the  son  of  the  brave 
Esther  Say,  the  subsequent  founder  of  Harrisburg,  and  at 
that  time  proprietor  of  "  John  Harris'  Ferry"  a  point  of 
such  importance  in  those  years,  and  so  widely  known 
abroad,  that  letters  in  Ireland,  Scotland,  and  Germany, 
were  directed  "  care  of  John  Harris,  Harris'  Ferry,  North 
America."  He  was  then  about  thirty  years  old  and  one 
of  the  most  active  and  indomitable  spirits  and  the  most 
extensive  Indian  trader  on  the  whole  frontier.  His  hos' 
pitable  mansion,  which  was  surrounded  with  stockades 
and  had  therewith  connected  a  long  row  of  sheds  for  the 
storing  of  skins  and  furs,  was  generously  thrown  open 
with  all  its  good  cheer  and  bounty  to  both  companies. 

And  there,  too,  were  Geo.  Fisher,  the  founder  of  Middle- 
town,  and  Marcus  Hulings,  who  dwelt  on  Duncan's  Island, 
and  Matthew  Smith  and  James  Gibson,  and  other  notable 
worthies  of  that  daring,  restless,  "  wild-turkey  breed  "  of 
men,  who,  almost  beyond  the  reach  of  the  laws  of  the  pro 
vince,  were  a  law  unto  themselves. 

The  next  day  was  to  witness  a  ceremony  of  great  interest 
to  our  readers.  Jack  had  scarcely  come  in  contact  with 
his  old  friend,  the  Rev.  Col.  Elder,  before  he  made  him  a 
confidant  of  the  whole  history  of  his  acquaintance  with 
Marie  de  Bonneville ;  his  reunion  with  her  after  so  many 
years  of  absence ;  his  escape  and  betrothal  and  his  intended 
journey  to  Philadelphia. 


432  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 

On  account  of  tli3  unsettled  state  of  affairs,  Marie's  un 
protected  situation,  the  long  journey  before  them,  the  pres 
ence  of  an  old  friend  to  officiate,  and  other  cogent,  conduc 
ing  circumstances,  it  was  the  parson's  prompt  counsel  that 
the  marriage  between  them  should  be  celebrated  at  caco. 
This  was  Jack's  own  opinion ;  and,  after  a  long  and  persua 
sive  conversation  with  the  object  of  his  regard,  he  at  length 
won  her  blushing  consent  that,  under  the  circumstances, 
it  was  the  most  fitting  thing  to  do. 

A  nd  so  it  was  resolved,  and  the  news  soon  spread  among 
the  members  of  both  companies.  As  Jack's  party  were  to 
start  on  horseback  early  on  the  morrow  for  Philadelphia, 
that  very  night  was  agreed  upon  for  the  solemn  rite,  and  a 
dense  grove  of  large  sugar-maples  which  skirted  the  Sus- 
quehanna  near  "  the  ferry,"  selected  as  the  most  appro 
priate  place. 

As  evening  drew  near,  all  was  made  ready  for  the  cere 
mony.  The  Rangers  composing  the  two  companies  took  a 
wonderful  interest  in  the  occasion.  They  had  gathered  in 
groups  during  the  afternoon  and  discussed  the  great  change 
about  to  happen  the  dashing,  reckless,  and  withal  mysteri 
ous  "  Wild  Hunter  of  the  Juniata."  They  told  each  other 
all  they  could  gather  of  his  history;  his  early  love  and  dis 
appointment  ;  the  murder  of  his  family ;  the  captivity  of 
his  beautiful  sister,  and  his  strange  reunion  with  both  sister 
and  his  first  and  only  love.  Each  had  trigged  himself  up 
somewhat  in  honor  of  the  occasion,  while  a  number  of 
curious  invited  visitors,  male  and  female,  from  Derry,  Han 
over  and  Donegal,  hastened  to  lend  their  presence  at  the 
ceremony.  Wau-ki-ua  was  in  a  wonderful  state  of  excite 
ment  all  day.'  Now  she  was  all  smiles  and  laughter  and 
merriment;  and  now  all  tears  and  sobs;  would  now  coyly 
accept  the  honeyed  words  and  blandishments  of  Talbot,  and 
anon — with  all  a  betrothed  woman's  caprice — would  pout 
and  tease  and  scold  him.  Her  preparation  of  the  bride'i 


A   MARRIAGE   IN   THE  .WOODS.  43b 

dress  was  a  very  easy  thing.  Those  were  old-fashioned 
times,  when  but  little  attention  was  paid  outside  of  the 
largest  cities  to  exterior  personal  adornment.  Marie 
sensibly  preferred  standing  up  in  her  half-Indian  dress, 
which,  however,  with  its  ornamented  moccasins,  buskins 
and  bright-hued  skirt,  was  unusually  picturesque  and 
becoming. 

Indeed  she  had  no  other.  All  that  she  possessed  of  the 
dresses  and  decorations  at  that  time  fashionable  in  the  city, 
had  been  left  in  Frazier's  cabin  hard  by  the  late  bloody 
battle-field.  She  needed  little,  indeed,  to  make  her  attrac 
tive.  Wau-ki-na  had  taken  great  pains  to  arrange  and 
decorate  with  a  few  flowers  her  friend's  luxuriant  hair,  and 
when,  all  being  ready — supported  on  the  one  side  by  the 
proud  and  happy  Captain  of  the  scouts,  and  on  the  other 
by  his  gentle  and  modest  sister  clad  in  her  Indian  costume 
— she  passed  with  grave  face  but  firm  tread  under  the 
shadow  of  the  trees>  there  was  a  universal  feeling  of  admira 
tion  among  the  rough  but  gallant  hunters  assembled  there 
They  talked  in  low  tones  to  each  other  of  her  grace,  her 
oeauty  and  her  dignity. 

All  was  now  prepared.  Two  great  fires  had  been  kindled 
on  a  gentle  acclivity  right  on  the  margin  of  the  broad 
river,  and  as  their  bright  flames  leaped  into  the  air,  illu 
mining  the  deep  shades  of  the  solemn  old  maple  grove, 
casting  broad  reaches  of  light  athwart  the  Susquehanna, 
and  bringing  out  into  bold  relief  the  two  companies  of 
Rangers,  every  man  of  them  leaning  on  his  trusty  rifle, 
the  whole  scene  was  impressive  and  picturesque  in  tho 
extreme. 

When  Jack  and  Marie,  flanked  by  Talbot  and  Wau-ki- 
na,  had  taken  position  between  the  two  fires,  which  were 
about  fifty  yards  apart,  the  Rev.  Col.  Elder  appeared 
before  them,  and,  with  the  simple  yet  solemn  service  of  the 
Presbyterian  faith,  made  the  "  twain  one  flesh."  The  whola 
"28 


434  OLD    FORT    DUQUESNE. 

ceremony  closed  with  a  fervent  and  impressive  prayer,  the 
sturdy  Presbyterian  Rangers  bowing  their  heads  in  devout 
attention,  and  then,  clustering  about  the  beaming  and  happy 
couple,  they  made  the  forest  ring  with  three  hearty  cheers 
for  the  bravest  and  most  reckless  scout  of  the  border. 

A  plentiful  feast  of  game  and  fish  was  the  next  thing  in 
order,  followed  by  a  dance  on  the  green  sward,  and  then  by 
games,  rifle  shooting,  and  what  not ;  and  when  Jack  and 
his  blushing  bride  rose  from  the  green  to  go  towards  John 
Harris'  hospitable  cabin,  they  were  escorted  by  the  parson 
and  a  company  of  Rangers  on  either  side,  and  afterwards 
serenaded  with  some  of  the  wild,  ringing  songs  then  in 
fashion  along  the  border. 

Of  all  the  jocund,  buoyant  spirits  present  on  this  auspi 
cious  occasion,  sure  the  happiest  and  merriest  was  Talbot 
He  seemed  to  live  for  the  present  and  was  during  the  whole 
evening  just  in  his  element.  No  foot  tripped  so  lightly  in 
the  dance;  no  voice  was  so  joyous  and  jubilant,  and  no 
laugh  was  so  ringing  and  infectious  as  just  this  happy  little 
lord's.  The  rough,  stalwart  border-rangers  had  taken  a 
wonderful  fancy  to  the  dapper  little  Indian  chief,  and  it 
must  be  confessed  that  not  only  did  his  Shawuee  decora 
tions  become  him,  but  also  that  he  knew  that  they  did,  and 
he  would  not  now  have  exchanged  them  for  the  finest  silk 
and  velvet. 

Wau-ki-na,  upon  whom  he  was  ever  a  close  attendant, 
stood  or  sat  shyly  and  contentedly  at  his  side,  evidently 
greatly  pleased  at  his  exuberant  flow  of  spirits ;  "  his  quips, 
and  cranks  and  wanton  wiles,"  and  at  the  many  attentions 
paid  him  by  the  Rangers.  Talbot  had  managed  during 
the  evening  to  find  frequent  occasion  for  little  side  talks 
and  bursts  of  tenderness,  and  when  the  two  were  about 
to  part  at  the  cabin,  he  quietly  drew  her  aside  and  whis 
pered  : 

14  And  now,  Wau-ki-na,  I  do  hope  you  will  think  seri. 


A   MARRIAGE   IN  THE  WOODS.  435 

ously  of  your  brother's  marriage,  and  prevail  on  him  to 
follow  it  up  by  a  second  one  when  we  come  to  Phil 
adelphia." 

"  Oh,  no !  no !  "  mischievously  broke  in  Wau-ki-na,  wil 
fully  bent  on  misunderstanding  him.  "  That  would  ba 
bad.  He  no  marry  two  times.  Marie  make  him  a  very 
good  wife.  He  want  no  other.  Edward  no  Indian  chief 
to  want  one,  two,  three  squaw,  that — " 

"  Oh,  pshaw  !  Wau-ki-na,  that  wont  do !  You  know  well 
that  I  mean  our  marriage.  You've  promised  me  to  be 
come  my  own  little  wife,  and — " 

"But  Edward  say,"  demurely  responded  the  little 
maiden,  "  you  make  fun  of  poor  Wau-ki-na,  and  that  you 
go  away  and  forget  her;  and  that  your  father  great  white 
chief,  and  too  high  to  have  American  daughter.  I  'fraid 
so,  too,  and — " 

"  All  stuff— confounded  twaddle  and  nonsense,  Wau-ki- 
na !  If  he  thinks  so,  you  mustn't.  I  vow  to  you — but 
what's  the  use  of  saying  more  than  a  thousand  times,  ho\» 
deeply  and  truly  I  love  you." 

"  Yes,  yes,"  eagerly  exclaimed  the  innocent  girl.  "  Say 
it  yet  more.  Wau-ki-na  never  tired.  It  make  music  in 
her  ear." 

"  Well,  I  do  say  it  again  ;  and  if  your  brother  will  be 
so  unjust  to  me,  why  not  let  me  show  my  honesty  by  an 
instant  marriage  ?  " 

"  No  !  no !  that  cannot  be  I  I  too  proud  " — drawing 
herself  up  and  throwing  back  her  head — "and  my  brother 
too  proud.  He  tell  me  all,  and  I  must  go  to  school  and 
learn  English,  and  dress  like  city  girl,  and  you  wait  only 
one,  two  year,  and  then,  if  you  love  Wau-ki-na,  she — she — " 

"  Well,  what?  you  little  witch  I " 

"  Witch  !  witch  ?  Edward  say  that  a  bad  word.  You 
mustn't—" 

"  Well,  maybe  tliis  is  bad,  too  " — suddenly  seizing  hei 


436 


OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 


earnest-looking  face  between  his  hands,  and  imprinting  • 
burning  kiss  upon  her  pouting  lips.  "  If  it  is,  I'm  devilish 
wicked,  and  what's  more,  as  unrepentant  as  the  Old  Boy." 

<:  There !  take  dat  for  dat ! "  answered  the  imperious  beauty, 
imiting  him  lightly  on  the  cheek  with  her  hand,  and  run 
ning  towards  the  cabin.  "  Edward  say — " 

"  Oh,  bother  Edward !  while  he  says,  I  do!  Good-night! 
I'll  see  you  bright  and  early  to-morrow !  "  and  the  young 
roysterer  turned  to  join  the  Rangers,  who  seemed  bent  on 
making  a  night  of  it 


CHAPTER  LXVL 

THE  JOURNEY   TO   miLADELPIIIA. 

Now,  my  co-mates  and  brothers  in  exile, 
Hath  not  old  custom  made  this  life  more  sweet 
Than  that  of  painted  pomp?    Are  not  these  wooda 
More  free  from  peril  than  the  envious  court  ? 

As  You  Like  It. 

EARLY  the  next  morning  Talbot,  the  Half-King,  Wau 
ki-na,  Jack  and  "his  wife,  were  mounted  on  horses,  kindly 
provided  by  John  Harris,  and  started  on  their  long  journey 
to  Philadelphia.  That  evening,  after  a  pleasant  day's  ride, 
they  reached  Lancaster,  and  found  th°.  bad  news  had  prex 
ceded  them,  and  the  little  towr  in  great  commotion.  Knots 
of  excited  citizens  stood  on  the  corners  discussing  the  late 
battle,  and  Jack  and  Scarooyaddy  were  eage>  y  surrounded 
and  forced  to  tell  a  score  of  times  the  story  of  the  defeat 
and  rout.  Had  the  good  burghers  known  the  full  extent 
of  the  disaster,  and  that  even  then  Duubar's  army  was  in 
marvellously  rapid  retreat  for  Will's  Creek  and  Fort 
Cumberland,  excitement  would  have  grown  almost  to 
panic. 

Off  agaia  in  the  morning,  and  making  rapid  progress  to 
the  big  city.  All  along  the  route  every  one  was  discussing 
the  great  battle,  and  Jack  had  often  to  repeat  his  story  to 
eager  questioners.  No  incident  of  note  happened,  and  on 
the  evening  of  the  third  day,  our  party  entered  the  city  and 
put  up  at  the  Royal  George  Inn. 

437 


438  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 

The  news  of  the  arrival  of  the  famous  Captain  Jack  and 
Half-King  was  soon  noised  abroad,  and  the  house  waa 
rapidly  crowded.  By  this  time  the  disaster  was  pretty  well 
known  throughout  the  city.  It  created  intense  excitement 
and  dismay,  the  more  so  since  no  adverse  tidings  had  been 
expected  by  any  one.  Governor  Morris,  on  his  return  that 
very  day  from  Carlisle,  where  he  had  personally  examined 
eome  of  Braddock's  fugitive  wagoners,  had  been  insulted  on 
the  public  street  for  giving  out  that  Braddock  and  his  fine 
army  of  British  regulars  had  been  defeated.  Many  of  the 
citizens  had  even  raised  subscriptions  for  general  bonfires 
for  the  victory  which  was  sure  to  crown  their  arms.  The 
direful  news,  therefore,  came  upon  the  Quaker  City  like  "  a 
clap  of  thunder  from  a  clear  sky." 

Our  party  had  not  been  long  in  their  quarters  before  Dr. 
Franklin,  then  postmaster-general,  and  a  philosopher  and 
public  man  of  great  influence,  hearing  of  their  arrival,  and 
knowing  well  both  Jack  and  the  Half-King,  called  upon 
them,  and  insisted  upon  taking  Jack,  his  wife,  and  sister, 
to  his  own  modest  mansion,  where  all  were  made  most 
heartily  welcome.  Jack  was  very  thoroughly  questioned 
by  the  Doctor  and  all  he  knew  about  the  battle  gleaned 
from  him. 

Next  day  the  Pennsylvania  Assembly  met,  and  both 
Jack  and  the  Half-King  were  publicly  thanked  for  the 
gallant  part  they  had  taken  in  the  late  struggle,  and  a 
choice  piece  of  proprietary  land  on  the  Juniata  was  donated 
by  the  Governor  and  Council  to  the  former. 

Meantime  a  suitable  and  fashionable  dress  of  the  day 
vas  procured  for  Wau-ki-na,  by  which — although  she  could 
not  look  more  attractive  than  she  had  in  her  modest  and 
becoming  Delaware  attire — so  changed  was  her  appearance, 
and  such  an  air  of  grace  and  dignity  given  her,  that  even 
Talbot,  when  he  saw  her,  gave  forth  a  long  whistle  of  aur« 


THE   JOURNEY   TO   PHILADELPHIA.  439 

prise  anil  admiration.  She  scarcely  seemed  the  same  Indian 
girl  whom  he  had  loved  and  courted. 

By  Franklin's  aid,  also,  a  very  pleasant  and  retired 
boarding  school  for  young  ladies  was  found,  and  Wau-ki- 
na  was  comfortably  ensconced  in  her  new  home  and  im 
mediately  commenced  her  studies. 

Talbot,  who  had  speedily  doffed  his  Shawnee  dress,  had 
decked  himself  out  in  a  complete  modish  suit  of  the  day — 
and  the  gentlemen's  fashions  of  those  days  were  very  odd 
and  peculiar — including  wig,  velvet  small  clothes,  silken 
hose  and  silver-buckled  shoes ;  and  on  his  first  formal  visit 
to  Wau-ki-na,  afforded  as  great  a  surprise  to  her  as  she  had 
to  him. 

As  soon  as  the  lady  principal  of  the  school  had  left  the 
room,  Wau-ki-ua,  who  had  for  many  minutes  been  care 
fully  and  blushingly  scrutinizing  the  young  lord  from  his 
ouckles  up  to  the  crown  of  his  curled  wig,  and  with  an 
amusing  mixture  of  curiosity  and  embarrassment,  hastily 
rose,  tripped  over  the  floor,  gave  out  a  musical  yet  provok 
ing  little  laugh,  and  said : 

"  You  not  the  little  Shawnee  Chief  I  knew  in  the  woods, 
and  I  not  the  Delaware  maiden  you  say — oh,  how  so  many 
times — you  love  so  hard.  I  tink," — extending  her  dainty 
wee  hand — "  we  better  be  introduced  again,  don't  you  ?  " 

"  That's  a  happy  thought,  Wau-ki-na,"  said  Talbot,  tak 
ing  her  hand  and  offering  her  a  kiss,  about  which  there 
was  a  slight  quarrel,  ending  in  a  sad  bungle.  "  And  if  I 
had  the  time,  I'd  like  to  make  love  to  you  all  over  again  ; 
but,  alas,  I  haven't,  but  sail  to-morrow  from  the  Delaware 
direct  for  England." 

"  What  ?  " — growing  pale  of  a  sudden — "  Edward  did 
not — oh,  no — you  mustn't  do — " 

"  Yes,  Wau-ki-na ;  would  like  to  stay,  but  I  know  the 
Captain  ;  have  taken  my  passage ;  am  watched  as  if  I  waa 
a  woman-stealer  when  I  come  to  see  you,  and  besides,  your 


140  OLD    FORT    DUQTJESNE. 

countrymen  are  getting  so  deucedly  disagreeable  and  de» 
cidedly  personal  in  their  remarks  about  British  regular1) 
and  British  courage  and  British  arrogance;  but  I'll  bo 
back  soon  to  claim  you.  Be  sure  of  iluit  I  and  now  I  have 
a  few  parting  words  for  you.  But  come !  let's  sit  on  yon 
sofa  ;  "  and  taking  her  unresisting  hand,  he  led  her  to  a 
seat,  and  for  some  time  the  two  chatted  and  murmured 
and  whispered  those  tender  little  nothings  which  have 
weight  and  meaning  only  to  those  interested. 

The  reappearance  of  the  lady  of  the  house,  with  that 
well-known  look  of  surprise  and  disapproval  on  the  face  so 
intimately  known  in  ladies'  boarding  schools  when  the  fair 
inmates  receive  visits  from  cousins,  put  a.  finale  to  the  in 
terview. 

The  next  day  Jack,  accompanied  by  Marie  and  Wau- 
Ki-na,  proceeded  to  the  Delaware  to  take  leave  of  Talbot. 
There  lay  the  huge  ship  which  was  to  carry  him  home,  her 
bowsprit  almost  touching  the  line  of  low  wooden  stores 
which  lined  the  wharf. 

Climbing  up  her  steep  sides,  they  were  welcomed  by 
Talbot,  his  hands  outstretched  and  his  eyes  beaming  with 
pleasure.  "  Well,  Jack,  this  is  too  kind  of  you  ! — more  than 
I  expected ;  though  I  must  say,  I  longed  for  it ;  and  you, 
too,  ladies,  I'm  glad  you  cast  a  thought  on  a  poor  devil  of 
a  foreigner  about  to  make  a  lonely  and  tedious  voyage.  I 
only  wish  you  were  all  going  along." 

These  last  words  were  addressed  to  the  whole  party,  but 
his  eyes  rested  affectionately  on  Wau-ki-na,  who  stood  timid 
and  downcast  behind  her  brother. 

"  Why,  of  course,  Talbot,"  warmly  answered  Jack,  "  we 
couldn't  think  of  allowing  an  old  and  pleasant  companion 
— one  for  whom  we  all  have  a  warm  regard — to  leave 
America  without  bidding  him  a  hearty  '  God  speed  ;'  but 
you'll  be  back  again,  you  know,  in  the  course  of  time,  eh  ? ' 
a  peculiar  smile  lighting  up  his  swarthy  countenance. 


THE   JOURNEY   TO    PHILADELPHIA.  441 

"  Of  course  I  will,"  vehemently  protested  Talbot,  adding . 
*  Excuse  me,  ladies,  but  would  you  promenade  the  deck  a 
minute  while  I  have  a  word  with  this  incorrigible  man," 
and  linking  his  arm  in  Jack's,  he  said  earnestly :  "  Jack, 
still  unfair  and  suspicious  of  me.  Why  do  you  doubt  the 
ikpth  and  sincerity  of  my  love  for  Lucy  ?  I,  doubtless, 
have  appeared  light  and  trifling  to  you — maybe  it's  my 
nature,  but  I  hope  I'm  a  true  man  and  have  eyes  to  dis 
cern,  sense  to  appreciate,  and  heart  to  love  a  true  woman. 
Confound  it,  man,  it  chafes  me !  " 

"  Not  a  word  more,  my  lord,"  said  Jack,  feelingly.  "  I 
must  say  that  you  have  behaved  truly  and  honorably  to 
wards  Lucy,  even  when  you  supposed  her  no  other  than  a 
simple  Indian  girl,  and  I  thank  you  for  it  and  am  not 
the  man  to  forget  it.  I'm  sure  you  have  a  strong  liking 
for  her,  as  well  as  she  for  you ;  but,  excuse  me,  I  have  known  so 
many  of  these  passing  fancies — the  creatures  of  occasion  and 
romantic  association — that  I  don't  put  much  faith  in  them." 

"  But,  Jack—" 

"  One  word  more,"  quickly  replied  the  scout,  "  and  let's 
end  the  subject.  I  cannot  brook  any  trifling  in  this  affair. 
Let  the  matter  rest  as  I  arranged  it.  Should  your  affcc.- 
tion  for  my  sister  outlive  the  prejudices  and  the  attractions 
of  your  proud  English  society,  and  should  you,  after  two 
years'  absence  and  with  the  full  consent  of  your  relatives, 
return  to  claim  Lucy,  then  let  it  be  between  you  and  her , 
I'm  content.  There,  now,  say  no  more,  but  let's  join  th<» 
rest." 

After  an  hour's  promenade  about  the  vessel — wonderful 
novelty  to  \Vau-ki-na — the  signal  was  given  to  loose  ship, 
and  our  party  went  ashore,  watching  the  vessel  with  inte 
rest  as  she  moved  out  into,  and  then  dropped  down  the 
Etream,  and  waving  handkerchiefs  so  long  as  Talbot  could 
be  seen.  They  then  slowly  turned  away,  something  very 
like  a  tear  glistening  on  Wau-ki-na's  jetty  lashes 


142 


OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 


Jack  did  not  stay  long  in  the  city.  It  was  as  distastefu.1 
to  him  as  to  Marie.  They  were  both  en  rapport  as  regards 
the  location  of  a  home  and  longed  for  the  wilderness  again. 
The  happy  couple  traversed  the  streets,  making  together 
sundry  purchases  of  clothing,  furniture,  and  utensils  neces 
sary  to  set  up  the  plain  and  simple  housekeeping  of  those 
days,  and  arranged  to  have  them  immediately  sent  out  on 
pack-horses. 


CHAPTER  LXVII. 

JACK'S   HOME  ON  THE  JUNIATA. 

The  stag  hounds,  weary  with  the  chase, 

Lay  stretched  upon  the  rushy  floor ; 
And  urged  in  dreams  the  forest  race 

From  Teviotstoue  to  Eskdale  moor. 

Scott. — Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel. 

ALL  necessaries  bought,  the  two  again  mounted  horse, 
and  travelled  by  easy  rides  back  to  Harris'  Ferry.  Hav 
ing  "ample  verge  and  room  enough "  wherein  to  choose  to 
his  own  fancy,  Jack  was  not  long  in  selecting  a  site  for  his 
farm  and  humble  dwelling. 

It  was  on  the  margin  of  the  "  blue  Juniata,"  not  far  from 
where  it  debouches  into  the  Susquehanna,  and  near  what 
was  then  called  Juneauta,  but  now  Duncan's  Island,  on 
the  latter  river.  A  rich  and  grassy  bottom  was  here  flanked 
on  the  one  side  by  a  noble  forest  of  beech,  maple,  oak  and 
elm,  and  bordered  on  the  other  by  a  noisy,  rapid-running 
little  stream  of  clear,  sparkling  water,  which  tumbled  down 
through  a  sombre  ravine  in  a  series  of  rapids,  ending  in  a 
cascade  of  some  ten  or  twelve  feet  high.  The  whole  coun 
try  around,  though  broken  and  rugged,  was  yet  exceed 
ingly  picturesque.  Sherman's  Creek  was  near  by,  while 
the  Kittatiuny  Mountains  could  be  distinctly  seen  to  the 
south,  and  the  Tuscarora  Mountains  to  the  northwest. 

Here,  then,  Jack  and  Marie  resolved  to  build  their  home. 
It  was  a  very  paradise  for  a  hunter.  The  woods  and 

443 


444  OLD    FORT    DUQUESNE. 

mountains  were  full  of  deer,  bear  and  panther,  and  all  the 
streams  abounded  in  fish.  While  not  too  far  from  the  con 
fines  of  civilization,  there  were  but  very  few  adventurous 
spirits  who  lived  higher  up  the  stream.  A  number  of 
friendly  Indians  frequented  the  country,  and  had  a  town 
on  the  island  at  the  Juneata's  mouth. 

Jack,  assisted  by  some  of  his  Rangers,  was  for  some  time 
kept  busy  building  his  rude  but  comfortable  log  cabin, 
which  he  finished  and  furnished  with  a  care  and  taste  unu 
sual  with  frontier  habitations.  He  then  devoted  himself  to 
clearing  and  embellishing  the  grounds,  and  soon  there 
grew  up  in  that  lone,  wild  spot,  a  neat,  cozy,  and  heartsome 
home,  where  Jack  and  Marie  lived  contented  and  happy. 

For  many  months  they  dwelt  in  peace,  undisturbed  by 
the  incursions  of  hostile  Indians,  and  occasionally  visited 
by  the  old  Half-King,  who  was  always  made  most  heartily 
welcome  and  who  lingered  about  the  cabin  for  days  at  a 
time,  making  his  frequent  hunting  excursions,  and  keeping 
the  table  of  his  old  friend  and  companion  abundantly  sup 
plied  with  the  finest  of  game.  He  would  then  grow  rest 
less  and  quietly  disappear  for  weeks,  absent  on  some  lone 
scout,  or  on  some  accredited  mission  to  the  Indians  west 
and  north  ;  or  sometimes  he  went  in  company  with  the  far- 
famed  Indian  interpreter  and  ambassador,  Conrade  Weiser. 

At  length  troublous  times  came.  Savage  slaughters  and 
inhumanities  grew  fearfully  near.  Then  Jack  put  himself 
at  the  head  of  his  gallant  Rangers,  and  scoured  the  valleys 
like  a  storm,  from  the  Juniata  even  down  to  the  Potomac; 
sorely  smiting  the  savage  foe,  and  beating  him  back  iu 
every  direction,  until  his  very  name  became  a  talisman  of 
protection  to  the  frontier,  and  equally  so  carried  dread  and 
dismay  to  the  pitiless  marauders. 

Twice  was  Jack  compelled — so  near  and  threatening  did 
Indian  incursions  become — to  remove  his  wife  to  Lancaster. 
But  then  came  quieter  times.  When  the  hardy  frontiersmen 


JACK'S  HOME  ON  TOE  JUNIATA.  445 

had  learned  the  necessity  of  banding  together  and  acting 
and  fighting  in  concert,  forts  were  built  as  rallying  points 
along  the  exposed  border. 

Two  years  had  now  passed  since  what  was  generally 
known  throughout  the  country  as  "  the  great  battle."  The 
Indian  troubles  still  continued,  but  had  been  transferred 
more  to  the  north  or  south  of  the  locality  where  Captain 
Jack  had  pitched  his  lot,  yet  such  had  already  been  the 
effect  of  the  frequent  and  desolating  savage  onslaughts,  that 
whereas  in  the  summer  of  '55  there  were,  west  of  the  Sus- 
quehanna,  full  three  thousand  fighting  men,  there  were 
now  left  only  about  one  hundred  of  the  more  tenacious  and 
reckless  of  them,  who,  despite  the  constant  menace  and 
harassment  from  small  roving  bauds  of  Indians,  and  the 
terrible  suspense  ever  hanging  over  them  like  a  Damocles' 
sword,  still  clung  to  their  chosen  homes. 

On  a  pleasant  evening  of  July  '57,  just  after  an  early 
supper,  Jack  and  Marie  sat  together  on  the  rustic  stoup  of 
"  The  Hermitage" — as  they  were  sportively  but  not  alto 
gether  inappropriately  accustomed  to  call  their  isolated 
home.  Our  old  friend  Scarooyaddy  had  been  on  a  two  weeks' 
visit  to  them,  and  he  and  Jack  had  been  out  since  early 
morning  on  one  of  their  grand  hunts.  Two  gaunt,  shaggy 
stag  hounds,  of  great  size  and  power — which  had  been 
mysteriously  left  at  Jack's  door  by  a  passing  Indian  trader 
over  a  year  before,  by  order  from  Philadelphia  as  he  said 
—lay  tired  and  snoring  ha  front  of  the  house. 

•      "  Two  dogs  of  black  St.  Hubert's  breed, 

Unmatched  for  courage,  breath  and  speed." 

Jack  took  to  these  splendid  dogs  at  once — no  such 
staunch,  tireless  hunters  in  the  whole  country.  They 
would  follow  with  unflagging  zeal  and  attack  with  won 
derful  courage  any  kind  of  game,  and  both  Jack  and  hii 
wife  credited  them  to  Talbot,  but  never  couFd  find  out  any« 
thing  for  certain  as  to  the  giver. 


446  OLD    FORT   DUQUESNE. 

The  old  Chief  was  even  now  walking  gravely  around  tho 
cabin,  his  face  ever  and  anon  breaking  into  grim  smiles 
and  grins,  a  merry,  laughing  child  of  some  fourteen  months 
perched  on  his  back,  one  chubby  little  hand  about  the 
Indian's  neck,  and  the  other  holding  fast  to  the  pendant 
scalp-lock.  It  was  Jack  and  Marie's  darling  boy,  and 
proud  enough  they  were  of  him. 

Lucy,  too,  had  finished  her  schooling,  and  had  gladdened 
their  home  by  her  gentle  presence  for  a  full  month.  She 
was  now  nearly  eighteen  and  had  grown  into  ripe  woman 
hood,  but  was  so  changed  in  her  appearance  from  the  time 
we  knew  her  last,  that  she  would  be  scarcely  recognizable. 
With,  of  course,  the  same  black  and  luxuriant  hair,  earnest 
brilliant  eyes,  and  rich,  brunette  complexion,  her  person 
had  grown  somewhat  taller  and  more  rounded.  To  the 
grace  and  ease  of  manner  which  were  native  to  her,  there 
had  been  added  a  dignity,  a  certain  womanly  charm  and  a 
matured  beauty,  which,  even  in  the  great  city,  had  at 
tracted  notice  and  compelled  admiration.  Her  simplicity 
artlessness,  and  sweet,  winning  ways  had  continued  with 
her — nay,  had  increased  with  her  growth,  and  she  had 
gathered  many  friends  and  admirers  and  was  generally 
esteemed  a  beautiful  and  charming  little  woman.  Both 
Jack  and  Marie  were  very  proud  of  her. 

On  this  evening  she  was  neatly  and  tastefully  attired> 
and  half  an  hour  before  had  taken  a  ramble  alone  in  the 
direction  of  the  little  water-fall  in  the  glen  before  alluded 
to,  but  with  a  manner  so  pensive  and  distraught,  that 
Marie  could  scarcely  help  observing  it. 

"  Do  you  know,  husband,"  she  remarked  with  an  air  of 
anxiety,  "that  I'm  getting  concerned  about  Lucy.  She 
does  not  appear  herself.  I  have  noted  her  growing  mel 
ancholy.  She  sighs  more  than  is  natural  for  one  of  hei 
age ;  likes  to  wander  by  herself.;  seems  to  be  absent-minded, 
M  if  something  were  on  her  heart  I  fear  it's  that  old 


JACK'S   HOME   ON  THE  JUNIATA.  447 

affair  with  Talbot,  and  that  her  feeling  for  him  was  far 
deeper  than  either  she  or  we  thought." 

"/  have  watched  her,  too,  Marie,"  answered  Jack,  scof- 
fingly,  "and  am  sure  it's  that.  You  have  given  all  the 
standard  symptoms.  What  did  I  tell  you  and  her?  That 
Talbot  was  a  trifler,  and  had  but  a  mere  passing  whim  for 
Lucy  ;  and  that  as  soon  as  he  was  out  of  sight  and  among 
his  relatives  and  old  associations,  he'd  forget  her  entirely. 
The  scoundrel !  nevr  even  to  have  written  or  sent  any 
message  whatever.  I  knew,"  he  added  bitterly,  "  his  '  deep 
Iwe,'  as  he  called  it,  wouldn't  last  longer  than  one  of  hid 
wigs,  but  I  did  think  he  would  have  been  man  enough  to 
write  and  tell  us  so,  frankly.  I  tell  you,  Marie,  he's  a 
fraud,  and  if  I  could  get  at  his  impudent  lordship,  I'd  teach 
him  a  lesson  he  wouldn't  forget  in  a  hurry." 

"Did  you  ever  speak  to  Lucy  on  the  subject?"  con^ 
tiuued  Marie,  after  a  reflective  pause. 

"  Well,  no — not  formally.  You  know  at  first  we  used 
to  quiz  her  somewhat  about  him  in  our  letters,  but  after 
the  months  passed  and  no  word  from  him,  I  felt  hurt  and 
she  felt  hurt,  and  so  his  name  was  dropped  entirely,  and  it's 
best  not  to  revive  it  and  for  us  to-  appear  as  if  we  had 
entirely  forgotten  him,  nor  noted  anything  amiss  with 
her.  'Tis  one  of  those  cases  where  time  alone  can  bring 
healing." 

"  But  still,  Edward,  I  feel  keenly  for  the  dear  girl  and 
think  I'll  take  some  early  occasion  to  question  her.  I've 
already  made  attempts  that  way,  but  Lucy  has  at  times 
such  a  haughty  way  about  her  and  such  a  peculiar  repel 
ling  reserve,  that  I  liked  not  to  venture  further.  But  do 
look  at  the  old  Chief,  husband !  He'll  surely  drop  thai 
child!" 

Scarooyaddy  had  just  seated  the  boy  on  the  top  of  hia 
shaved  pate,  and  the  little  fellow  was  testifying  his  hugi 
delight  by  loud  crows  and  laughs. 


448  OLD    FORT    DUQUESNE. 

"Ob,"  laughed  Jack,  "  trust  the  Chief  for  that!  He's 
raised  a  big  family  of  papooses,  and  I'm  delighted  that 
the  lonely  old  man  can  take  such  a  grandfatherly  interest 
in  child  of  mine.  Why,  Marie,  be  just  dotes  on  little 
Eddy  and  I  do  believe  comes  here  more  to  play  and  romp 
with  him  than  to  see  us ;  but  look,  wife,  who  can  those  two 
horsemen  be  turning  up  our  road?  Blamed  if  they  ain't 
coming  here !  Uncommonly  genteel-looking  persons,  too. 
Who  can  they  be  ?  The  one  in  front  is  surely  not  Parson 
Elder — he's  too  gray  for  him,"  and  Jack  rose  up  and  ad 
vanced  to  the  steps. 

Sure  enough,  the  horses  now  approached  on  a  brisk  trot 
and  stopped  before  the  door,  the  two  hounds — disturbed  from 
dreams  of  the  chase — starting  forward  with  an  angry  snarl, 
which  was  soon  changed  to  joyful  leaps  and  mad  gambols 
AS  they  jumped  towards  the  saddle  of  the  first  horseman. 

"  Down  !  Chester !  and  you,  Hector,  down !  — down !  I  say. 
Is  that  the  rude  way  you  receive  strangers  ?  For  shame !  " 
sternly  shouted  Jack  ;  but  the  dogs  would  not  down  but 
continued  in  a  wonderful  state  of  joy  and  excitement,  when 
the  elder  of  the  gentlemen,  taking  off  his  three-cornered  hat, 
uncovering  a  very  full,  curling  wig,  and  bowing  very 
courteously,  said  : 

"  Don't  blame  the  dogs,  my  dear  sir.  They  have  good 
reason  to  remember  me,  as  they  are  of  the  best  blood  from 
my  own  kennel.  I  believe  I  have  the  pleasure  of  seeing 
Mr.  Edward  Percy  ? " 

"  That's  my  real  name,  sir,"  spoke  Jack  in  great  surprise  ; 
"  but  not  the  one  I'm  known  by  on  this  frontier.  Will  you 
alight,  sir?" 

"  Thank  you,  yes.  'T would  have  been  better,  perhaps, 
for  this  young  man  here,"  waving  his  hand  to  his  compan 
ion,  who  now  advanced  to  the  fore,  "  to  have  presented  me, 
rather  than  for  me  to  introduce  myself.  He  claims  both 
jou  d  your  wife  as  friends." 


JACK'S  HOME  ON  THE  JUNIATA.  449 

"Why,  Jack  I  don't  you  know  an  old  acquaintance? 
There's  friendship  for  you,  with  a  vengeance !  You  once 
had  a  desperate  close  grip  of  my  throat,  and  the  night 
after,  /  had  a  bead  drawn  on  you  and  was  near  sending 
you  to  the  '  happy  hunting  grounds.'  I  think  we  ought  to 
know  each  other." 

"  Why,  eh  !  What  ?  "  said  Jack  hesitatingly  and  gazing 
earnestly  at  the  young  man ;  "  it  can't  be,  and  yet  it  is,  by 
Jehoshaphat.  Here !  Marie !  Chief!  Lucy !  here's  the  little 
Shawnee  chief  back  again !  You've  bravely  redeemed  your 
self,  young  man,  and  I  think  ever  so  much  of  you  again." 

Marie  and  the  old  Chief  now  hurried  up  and  shook  Tal- 
6ot  warmly  by  the  hand.  The  latter,  overjoyed  to  see  hia 
old  associates  again,  leaped  from  his  horse,  exclaiming : 

"  But  what  a  stupid  I  am.  Let  me.make  known  to  you 
my  own  father,  Lord  Talbot  of  Westley  Manor,  Sussex, 
who  has  come  all  the  way  from  England  to  see  your  wild 
country  and  to  make  the  acquaintance  of  those  to  whom 
aoth  he  and  his  sou  are  so  much  indebted." 

The  old  baron  was  hospitably  welcomed  by  all  and 
gracefully  bowed  his  acknowledgments.  When  he- too  had 
alighted,  Talbot,  meanwhile  looking  eagerly  around, 
anxiously  enquired : 

"  But,  Jack !  I  don't  see  Wau-ki-na.  We  heard  in  the 
city  she  was  with  you.  She's  well,  I  hope,  and  here,  is  she 
not?" 

"  Lucy's  here  and  well.  One  word  with  you  aside,  my 
lord." 

The  two  moved  to  the  further  end  of  the  porch,  Marie, 
meanwhile,  bestowing  every  attention  on  the  old  English 
man,  when  thus  Jack  very  gravely : 

"  Talbot,  I  believe  it's  my  duty  to  tell  you — " 

"Now,  what!  Jack?"  hastily  interrupted  Talbot,  hia 
countenance  growing  suddenly  pale,  and  with  his  question 
ing  eyes  fixed  on  the  scout's  face.  "You  don't  mean  to  teL 
29 


460  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 

me  that  Wau-ki-na  has  forgotten  me,  or  that  she,  she — iovea 
another !  Don't  say  that  1  Jack,  please  don't ! "  pleadingly. 

"  No,  not  quite  so  bad  as  that,  my  lord,"  answered  the 
Ranger,  smilingly ;  "  although  you  well  deserve  that  fate 
after  so  long  silence  and  neglect.  But  now  that  you  are  back, 
I  ought  to  know  upon  what  footing  you  renew  your  ac 
quaintance  with  Lucy." 

"  Why,  as  her  betrothed  lover,  of  course !  What  do  you 
take  me  for,  Captain  ?  I  come  to  wed  her,  if  she  still  loves 
me  as  I  do  her." 

"And  your  father?"  continued  Jack. 

"  Oh,  the  governor's  all  right ;  has  given  his  free  con 
sent — so  have  they  all  at  home.  Gad,  they  had  to — I'd 
have  '  cut '  the  whole  connection,  else.  By  jove,  I'd  have 
— I'd  have — disinherited  and  expatriated  them.  They're 
all  anxious  now  to  see  and  welcome  your  sister.  Now  tell 
me,  Jack,  that's  a  good  boy,  where  is  Wau-ki-na  and  does 
she  love  me  yet  ?  " 

"  You'll  have  to  ask  her  that,  Talbot,"  laughed  Jack. 
"  You'll  find  her  sitting,  I  think,  at  the  foot  of  yonder 
waterfall  whose  noise  you  hear  in  the  distance." 

"  Where  ?  where  ?  By  George,  you  don't  say  so  I "  and 
without  staying  to  hear  more,  off  the  impatient  lover  shot 
like  an  arrow. 


CHAPTER  LXVIIL 

TALBOT  MEETS   WAU-KI-NA  AQAIW. 

Nor  guess  I,  was  that  Pennsylvania  home, 

With  all  its  picturesque  and  balmy  grace, 
And  fields  that  were  a  luxury  to  roam, 

Lost  on  the  soul  that  look'd  fro.n  such  a  face. 

Enthusiast  of  the  woods  I  when  years  apace 
Had  bound  thy  lovely  waist  with  woman's  zone, 

The  sunrise  path  at  morn  I  see  thee  trace 
To  hills  witli  high  magnolia  overgrown, 
And  joy  to  breathe  the  groves,  romantic  and  alone. 

Campbell. — Gertrude  of  Wyoming. 

HE  soon  came  in  sight  of  the  little  cascade,  and  then  hii 
quick  lover's  eye  discovered  Wau-ki-na,  sitting  pensively 
on  a  tree  trunk  at  its  foot.  The  book  she  had  in  hand 
had  fallen  to  her  lap,  and  the  lovely  girl  was  dreamily 
watching  the  bright  waters  as  they  leaped  into  the  rocky 
basin  at  her  feet.  Their  noise  had  entirely  prevented 
her  hearing  approaching  footsteps. 

Talbot  paused  at  a  little  distance  to  regard  her,  and  study 
how  he  should  make  himself  known.  Indeed,  so  altered 
and  so  greatly  improved  was  her  appearance,  that  hia 
heart  leaped  into  his  throat,  and  to  stop  its  tumultuous 
throbbing,  he  leaned  for  a  moment  against  a  smooth 
beech. 

He  was  fairly  enraptured  with  the  beautiful  girl,  who, 
it  must  be  confessed,  was,  with  her  distracted  air  and 
graceful  n&gligft  attitude,  looking  her  very  best. 

451 


452  OLD   FORT   DUQUESXE. 

At  last  he  managed  to  approach  and  murmur,  "  Wau-ki- 
uu  !  Here  I  am,  according  to  troth." 

The  frightened  girl  sprang  to  her  feet  with  a  sharp, 
quick  cry,  and  gazed  at  him  with  a  startled,  bewildered 
look ;  her  face  grew  rosy  red,  and  then  pale ;  her  eyes 
closed,  a  shudder  came  over  her  frame,  and  she  would  have 
sunk  to  the  ground,  had  not  Talbot  sprang  towards  her 
and  caught  her  in  his  arms,  covering  her  face  with  kisses, 
and  at  the  same  time  exclaiming : 

"  Why,  Wau-ki-na,  my  own,  'tis  I ! — Talbot,  your  be 
trothed  lover,  who  has  come  back  to  claim  you." 

Wau-ki-na  speedily  recovered,  and  with  blushing  cheeks 
and  sparkling  eyes,  quickly  disengaged  herself  from  her 
lover's  arms,  and  drawing  herself  up  haughtily,  but  with 
downcast  eyes,  she  said : 

"  Excuse  me,  Lord  Talbot,  but  I  am  constrained  to  say, 
that  it  was  taking  an  unfair  advantage  of  a  weak  woman 
to  come  upon  her  in  that  abrupt  way.  One  would  think 
that  before  presuming  on  the  familiarity  of  an  old  acquaint 
ance,  you  would  have,  at  least,  first  attempted  to  explain 
your  long  silence." 

It  was  Talbot's  turn  now  to  be  astonished.  His  eyes 
widened  and  the  puzzled  look  and  attitude  of  wonder 
which  he  assumed  were  almost  ludicrous.  At  last  he  gave  a 
long  whistle,  and  then  said  in  a  bewildered  sort  of  way: 

"  Bless  me,  "Wau-ki-na !  why  you  talk  English  as  well  as 
• — yes,  a  plaguy  sight  better  than  /  do.  Why !  why !  I'm 
fairly  stunned  at  your  looks  and  language !  And  proud — 
1  declare,  you're  as  haughty  as  a  countess,  and  a  vast  deal 
prettier  than  any  countess  /  ever  saw.  Why,  you're  no 
wore  Pipe's  Indian  daughter  than  I'm  Nymwha's  Indian 
son.  I  see  it !  Hang  me  if  I  wont  have  to  court  you  all 
over  again — that's  plain!" 

This  odd  speech,  taken  with  the  young  lord's  ludicrous 
and  przzled  attitude,  and  his  allusion  to  the  old  Indian 


TALBOT  MEETS  WAU-KI-NA  AGAI1T.  453 

lames,  completely  broke  down  Wau-ki-na's  hatightj 
reserve ;  her  whole  face  changed  on  the  instant ;  her  bright 
eyes  sparkled  and  twinkled  with  the  old  merriment,  and 
she  gave  out  a  ringing  peel  of  rich  laughter.  She  positively 
ould  not  help  it.  At  last  she  said  : 

"  Well,  sir,  no  matter  how  much  /  am  changed,  I  see  yon 
.re  the  same  odd  character  I  always  knew  you.  Wheie  in 
the  world  did  you  come  from  ?  and  what  are  you  doing 
nere?" 

It  was  amusing  to  watch  Talbot's  shy,  puzzled  glances. 
He  could  not  get  over  his  surprise,  pleasing  as  it  was.  He 
left  her  a  mere  girl ;  he  now  found  her  a  woman,  with 
many  added  charms.  She  used  to  speak  in  simple,  broken 
English  ;  she  now  talked  as  correctly  and  as  glibly  as  he 
did  himself,  with  just  every  now  and  then  a  peculiar  accent 
and  pronunciation,  which  only  made  her  words  more  at- 
Cractive.  Besides,  he  saw  that  her  quick  woman's  wit  was 
Diving  her  the  advantage,  as  witnessed  by  her  last  ques 
tions,  and  for  another  time  in  their  acquaintance  he  stood 
abashed  before  her.  He  was  by  no  means  so  sure  of  his 
ground  as  before. 

"  Why,  Wau-ki-na,  what  an  absurd  and  ridiculous  ques 
tion  !  If  you  have  forgotten,  /  have  not !  I  repeat,  I  come 
to  claim  you  !  I've  seen  your  brother,  and  my  father  now 
awaits  you  at  the  cabin." 

"  Your  father !  "  faltered  out  Wau-ki-na,  all  the  maiden 
shyness  and  timidity  returning,  as  her  imagination  quickly 
conjured  up  a  stern,  haughty  English  nobleman,  looking 
at  her  with  cold,  critical  eyes.  "  Good  heavens !  what  shall 
we  do  ?  Come !  sit  down  by  me,  and  explain  all  this  mys 
tery  !  Why  have  you  never  written  ?  'Twas  cruel  and 
unfeeling  of  you  to  treat  me  so  1 " 

"Why,  bless  you,  Wau-ki-na,  I've  been  nearly 'round 
the  world  since  I  saw  you !  I  did  write,  too,  twice; 


454  OLD   FOKT   DUQUESNE. 

as  9"jQ  as  the  ship  reached  London,  and  again  when  I  sen! 
the  bounds  over ;  and — " 

"  A.h,  it  was  you,  then,  to  whom  we  are  indehted  for  those 
magnificent  dogs  ?  I  always  thought  as  much  1 "  and  her 
confidence  in  her  l6ver  was  evidently  fast  coming  back. 

"  Yes,  I'd  scarcely  reached  home  before  I  wanted  to  let 
Jack  know  I  was  grateful  to  him,  and  to  all  of  you.  The 
dogs,  and  a  letter  of  instructions  to  a  countryman  in  Phila 
delphia  how  to  forward  them,  came  all  right,  I  find  ;  but 
the  letter  I  wrote  you,  and  then  the  one  to  your  brother,  it 
seems  never  reached  either.  When  I  got  home,  there  was 
a  terrible  bother  and  hubbub,  I  assure  you.  They  had 
(somehow  heard  that  I  had  left  the  army  and  was  taken 
captive,  and  had  given  me  up  for  lost.  But  when,  after- 
ivards,  I  related  my  adventures,  and  told  them  all  about 
my  acquaintance  with  you,  then  my  love  for  you  and  be 
trothal,  it  created  a  vastly  bigger  commotion  than  my  re 
turn.  But  I  was  firm,  obstinate,  and — " 

"  Stay !  "  interrupted  "Wau-ki-na,  with  flushed  face  and 
haughty  mien ;  "  if  your  parents  think  me  not  good  enough 
or  high  enough  born  to  mate  with  you,  I  release  you  right 
here,and  on  the  very  instant,  of  all  imprudent  engagements ! " 

"  Will  you  ?  "  quickly  put  in  Talbot ;  "  but  I'll  not  re 
lease  you,  Miss  "Wau-ki-na  Pipe !  As  the  poet  Milton,  01 
Dryden,  or  some  other  antique  jingler  says, '  you're  mine  till 
death  doth  us  part!'  It  is  "Wau-ki-na  against  the  world  1 
and  so  I  told  them.  "Why,  what  do  you  think,  Kina  ?  they 
had  actually  arranged  to  match  me  with  a  prim,  cold 
blooded,  oldest  daughter  of  a  seedy  Scotch  nobleman — a 
certain  Lady  Ruthven — a  woman  whom  I  always  detested, 
who  looked  as  if  she  had  a  glass  eye,  and  who  said  aye,  aye 
for  yes,  and  na,  na  for  no,  and  kye  for  cow,  and  so  on.  Do 
you  think  I'd  marry  a  woman  whose  thin  lips  were  as  cold 
and  colorless  as  an  oyster's,  and  not  red  and  pouty  lik« 
yours,  and  who  even  couldn't  talk  good  English  ?  " 


IALBOT   MEETS   WAU-KI-NA   AQADT.  455 

"  I  didn't  talk  very  good  English  myself,  sir,  as  you 
knew  me  all  along !  "  rippled  out  Wau-ki-na,  who  cer 
tainly  just  then,  with  her  melting  eye,  lip  as  red  and  ripe  as 
a  cherry,  and  plump,  well-rounded  form,  must  have  pre 
sented  a  strong  contrast  to  her  high-born  rival. 

"Ah,  true!  I  forgot  that!  "  said  Talbot,  greatly  embar 
rassed,  not  so  much  at  his  own  blundering  as  at  his  being 
caught  in  it ;  "  but — but — "  brightening  up  as  a  happy 
thought  took  him,  "  you  speak  very  good  English  now ! 
Why,  Kina,  by  jove!  you  talk  like  a  book!  and  then  you 
<ire  an  angel  compared  with  that  vinegary  and  angular 
fecotch  lassie ! " 

"  Oh,  iliat  makes  your  logic  good,"  laughed  the  merry 
girl.  "  Go  on,  young  Mr.  Nymwha !  " 

"  Nymwha's  good,  my  rose  bud  !  "Wonder  what's  become 
of  the  absurd,  bombastieal  old  gusher  ?  Well,  we  talked 
you  over  and  over  at  our  house,  until  your  name  was  as 
familiar  to  the  whole  large  household  as  it  used  to  be  in 
Shaunopinstown.  But  I  was  in  dead  earnest — I  always 
told  you  I  was — and  finally  Lady  Grace  and  my  father 
came  to  the  same  sensible  conclusion  that  Jack  did — to  let 
time  heal  the  '  American  delusion,1  as  they  called  it — think 
of  it,  Kina, '  delusion ' — and  so  it  was  agreed  that  after 
spending  a  long  time  in  foreign  travel,  and  I  not  to  corres 
pond  with  you,  time  would  test  both  our  affections ;  and  so 
it  did,  and  I  came  back  just  as  infatuated  as  ever,  and  so — 
and  so — tc  make  a  long  story  short,  my  father  concluded 
to  come  over  with  me  and  save  me  from  a  rapid  decline. 
You  see,  my  girl,  that  I'm  but  the  shadow  of  my  former 
self — merely  '  an  eagle's  talon  in  the  waist ' — but  come  ! 
uere's  for  another  kiss  of  those  tempting  lips,  and  then  let'? 
go  and  meet  my  governor." 

"  Oh,  indeed,  sir,  I  cannot !  What  if  he  didn't  like  me  ?  " 

"  Now,  just  as  if  that  were  possible  I  " — looking  saucilj 
ir  to  her  bright  eyes. 


456  OLD   FORT    DUQUESNE. 

"  But  he's  proud,  and  stern,  and  severe." 

"  Am  I  so  ? — that  is,  when  I  haven't  on  my  Shawnee  rig 
and  paint  ?  Why,  he's  the  best  and  kindest  father  ever 
was  and  thinks  that  I — scapegrace  as  I  am — am  just  a 
model  of  a  son.  Na,  ua !  nane  o'  your  auld,  dour,  Lang 
Syne  Scotch  lassies  for  me  I "  And  so  they  lingered  by 
the  water  side  and  chatted  on  for  a  while  longer,  recalling 
t  e  past,  enjoying  the  present,  and  forecasting  the  future. 

We  would  not,  if  we  could,  put  down  on  cold  paper  the 
many  little  nothings  that  passed  on  either  side.  They 
were,  doubtless,  very  sweet  and  pleasant,  but  our  readers 
will  have  to  imagine  them.  Experienced  ones  will  have  no 
difficulty  in  doing  so. 

One  thing  was  plain :  as  they  at  last — hand-in-hand, 
like  two  happy  children — slowly  sauntered  towards  the 
cabin,  the  entente  cordiale  was  fully  re-established  between 
them.  When  Wau-ki-na  at  first  caught  sight  of  the  strange 
elderly  gentleman  on  the  porch,  she  faltered,  grew  pala 
and  fairly  trembled ;  but  Talbot  reassured  her,  and  was  st 
conspicuously  proud  and  happy,  that  she  made  her  approach 
with  grace  and  dignity.  When  the  steps  were  reached, 
Talbot  took  her  hand  and  presented  her  to  his  father,  say 
ing: 

"  Here,  Father,  is  the  young  Indian  girl  you  have  heard 
BO  much  about.  I'm  glad  to  find  her,  after  so  long  a  sepa 
ration,  as  true  to  me  as  I  am  to  her,  and  I  beg  at  once  to 
assure  you,  and  all  here,  that  having  seen  her  and  talked 
with  her  again,  I  esteem  and  love  her  more  than  ever." 

This  frank,  open  speech  of  Talbot,  as  if  anxious  to  show 
his  trust  and  pride  and  affection  in  the  lady  of  his  choice, 
put  the  whole  company  at  once  at  their  ease.  The  old 
baron — evidently  agreeably  surprised  and  delighted  at 
Wau-ki-na's  lady-like  appearance  and  manners — came  for 
ward,  took  the  hand  of  the  blushing  girl  in  the  warmest 
and  most  gricious  manner,  bowed  down  and  saluted  her 


TALBOT   MEETS   WAU-KI-NA   AGAIN.  457 

affectionately  on  the  cheek,  and  said  some  pleasant,  fatherly 
words. 

A  merry,  happy  time  they  had  that  evening ;  Talbot,  Jr., 
taking  a  most  lively  interest  in  the  "  little  Captain  Jack," 
as  he  called  the  heir  of  the  cabin.  He  thought  it  the 
Btrangest,  funniest  thing  in  the  world  for  such  a  silent, 
mysterious,  old  leather-stockings  as  Jack  to  have  a  real 
walking,  talking  baby  in  his  home.  By  this  interest,  the 
young  Englishman  rose  rapidly  in  Marie's  esteem.  She 
said  that  very  night  to  her  husband,  after  all  had  retired, 
that  Talbot  was  an  odd  stick,  but,  on  the  whole,  a  very 
sensible  fellow,  who  took  no  airs  on  himself,  and  she  was 
sure  he  would  make  Lucy  a  most  excellent  and  affectionate 
husband. 

For  two  weeks,  the  Englishmen,  father  and  son,  were 
Jack's  guests.  They  were  immediately  made  completely 
at  Lome,  and  showed  such  an  earnest  desire  to  know  the 
country,  its  customs,  people,  native  sports,  etc.,  that  all  who 
came  in  contact  with  them  were  delighted.  For  days  to 
gether  they  would — Jack,  the  old  Chief,  and  the  two  tire 
less  hounds  in  the  van — roam  over  the  wild  mountains, 
sequestered  valleys  and  noble  forests  of  the  Juniata,  hunt 
ing  the  elk,  deer  and  bear.  Then  they  would  have  night 
hunting  and  fishing,  and  again  would  mingle  in  the  rude 
back-woods  sports  of  the  Paxton  Rangers,  and  once  even 
rode  with  them  as  far  as  Shamokin  (now  Sunbury)  to 
repel  a  threatened  foray  of  Indians. 

But  pleasant  times  must  all  have  an  end,  and  the  Tal- 
bots,  delighted  as  they  were  with  this  novel  frontier  life 
and  their  exciting  hunting  adventures,  were  obliged  to 
hurry  back  to  England,  and  so  the  marriage  between  Wau- 
ki-na  and  Talbot  took  place  immediately  in  a  very  quiet 
way  at  Paxton,  and  in  the  humble  log  cabin  of  the  Rev, 
Colonel  Elder,  who  officiated. 

We  would  like  above  all  things  to  describe  this  mai» 


458  OLD   FORT   DUQUESSE. 

riage,  and  to  narrate  the  appearance  and  behavior  of  the 
little  couple,  and  record  some  of  the  lovers'  quarrels  and 
odd  conversations  which  occurred  between  them,  but  we 
must  reluctantly  draw  our  tale  to  a  close.  The  young 
Englishman  seemed  to  become  more  hopelessly  in  love 
every  day.  He  was  actually  nearly  daft,  and  the  exu 
berance  of  his  spirits  threw  him  into  all  kinds  of  strango 
pranks,  merry  tricks  and  funny  conceits.  He  was  a  per 
petual  astonishment  to  the  whole  circle,  and  when,  after  the 
ceremony  was  performed  and  the  grave  parson  Elder 
offered  to  kiss  the  blushing  bride,  Talbot  offered  his  own 
merry  face  instead  and  gave  him  a  hearty  buss  and  embrace, 
finishing  up  by  some  wonderful  dancing  and  magnificent 
gifts  to  all,  he  was  voted  a  general  favorite  and  a  regular 
magazine  of  oddity  and  merriment. 

Marie  clung  to  Lucy  for  hours  before  parting  time  came. 
It  seemed  as  if  she  could  not  possibly  let  her  go  and  to 
such  a  great  distance,  too,  with  thousands  of  miles  of  water 
between  them ;  but  the  horses  dashed  up  to  the  minister's 
door  with  a  sort  of  lumbering,  travelling  chariot  which  had 
been  procured  from  Lancaster,  and  amid  tears  and  kisses 
and  hearty  good-byes,  Lucy  was  off  on  her  road  to  Phil 
adelphia. 

The  bridal  party  did  not  rest  long  in  the  city,  but  took 
passage  in  a  sailing  ship,  and  in  due  course  of  time  arrived 
in  England,  and  proceeded  as  fast  as  post  horses  could 
convey  them  to  Westley  Manor,  in  Sussex,  the  beautiful 
country  seat  of  the  Talbots. 

Here  they  found  the  whole  family  most  anxiously 
awaiting  their  coming.  The  young  Lady  Talbot  was  re 
ceived  by  all  with  due  respect  and  attention.  It  was  only, 
however,  after  some  little  acquaintance  with  Lucy ;  with 
her  beauty,  modesty,  amiability  and  winning  ways,  that 
Lady  Grace  and  her  other  relatives  could  not  avoid  giving 
her  their  hearts.  Lucy  Percy  was  naturally  such  a  grace- 


TALBOT  MEETS  WAU-KI-NA  AGAIN.  459 

fa!  &nd  sensible  little  body,  that  she  soon  filled  with  great 
ease  and  credit  the  station  among  the  surrounding  gentry 
to  which  she  had  been  called,  and  young  Talbot  forced  all 
to  confess  that,  in  going  over  to  the  far  wilds  of  America 
for  his  beautiful  and  charming  wife,  he  had  done  just  the 
most  sensible  thing  of  his  life. 

Jack  and  his  wife  lived  very  many  happy  years  in  their 
pleasant  home  on  the  Juviata.  The  "  olive  plants  "  in 
creased  about  their  bountiful  table,  and  "  Captain  Jack,  the 
Ecout "  found  the  greateM  delight  of  his  life  in  teaching 
his  troop  of  bold-spirited  boys  the  wood-craft  and  sports 
which  had  occupied  so  many  of  his  own  younger  years. 
From  their  mother,  they  learned  to  love  the  woods  for  the 
sake  of  the  flowers,  the  ferns,  the  mosses,  and  other  wonder 
ful  creations  which  taught  them  to  "look  from  nature  up 
to  nature's  God  ;"  from  her,  also,  how  to  draw,  paint,  and 
preserve  the  birds  and  animals  thoy  killed  ;  while  from  the 
aged  Half-King,  whose  visits  wf  re  longer  and  more  fre 
quent  as  advancing  years  required  more  rest,  they  learned 
to  trap,  to  fiVn,  to  take  long  rambles,  and  to  endure  pati 
ently  all  the  trials  of  life. 


CHAPTER  LXTX. 

THE   FORTUNES   OP   OLD   FORT   DUQUE8WR 

Ye  say  they  all  have  passed  away, 

That  noble  race  and  brave ; 
That  their  light  canoes  have  vanish'd 

From  off  the  crested  wave : 
That  mid  the  forests  where  they  roam'd, 

There  rings  no  hunter  shout, 
But  their  name  is  on  your  waters — 

Ye  may  not  wash  it  out. — Mrs.  Signurney. 

WE  could  not  fittingly  conclude  without  some  brief 
mention  of  the  subsequent  fortunes  of  the  old  French  fort 
which  gives  our  tale  its  name. 

Of  course  the  disastrous  battle  of  Braddock's  Field  set 
tled  for  the  time  the  dominion  of  all  the  vast  territory 
between  the  Allegheny  and  the  Mississippi — but  more,  it 
left  naked  aud  defenceless  the  whole  western  half  of  the 
provinces  of  Pennsylvania  and  Virginia. 

We  have  already  stated  that  the  ignominious  and  totally 
unnecessary  retreat  of  Colonel  Dunbar's  reserve  army,  was 
far  more  deplorable  and  immediately  calamitous  in  ita 
effects,  than  the  defeat  of  Braddock's  army  itself.  Had 
"  Dunbar  the  Tardy,"  in  compliance  with  the  earnest  peti 
tions  of  the  whole  border  and  the  Pennsylvania  Assembly, 
possessed  the  courage  to  make  a  firm  stand  even  at  Fort 
Cumberland,  he  would  have  afforded  a  nucleus  and  rally* 
ing-point  for  both  Pennsylvania  and  Virginia  provinces ; 
but  wL?n,  deaf  to  all  urgent  entreaty,  and  in  direct  opposi 
460 


THE  FORTUNES  OF  OLD  FORT  DUQUESNE.    461 

Hon  to  the  dictates  of  the  commonest  prudence  and  manli 
ness,  he  destroyed  his  stores  and  ammunition  and  marched 
his  demoralized  and  panic-stricken  mob  back  to  Philadel 
phia,  all  was  given  up  as  lost. 

The  whole  back  country  was  thereby  left  naked  and 
Unprotected,  and  its  inhabitants,  finding  themselves  deserted, 
with  no  money  or  leaders  or  organization,  became  also 
panic-stricken,  and  left  houses  and  stock  and  growing  crops, 
and  moved  back  to  and  even  beyond  the  Susquehanna. 

Our  provincial  Quaker  Assembly,  instead  of  taking 
prompt,  decisive  and  energetic  action  at  this  eventful  crisis, 
Bat  supine  and  lethargic  under  the  petitions  and  the  tidinga 
of  flight  and  burnings  and  slaughters  which  poured  into 
Philadelphia  from  every  direction.  A  miserable  quarrel 
had  sprung  up  between  the  Assembly  and  the  Lieutenant- 
Governor  Morris  and  Penn's  Council,  about  the  raising  of 
money  and  troops,  and  it  was  only  after  a  long  season  of 
most  untimely  inaction,  and  after  a  vast  amount  of  ruin 
and  slaughters  and  savage  barbarities  had  been  committed, 
that  any  efficient  measures  were  taken  to  drive  back  the 
marauding  bands  of  Delaware  and  Shawnee  Indians,  who 
had  made  the  whole  border  a  howling  and  desolate  waste. 

But  to  return  to  the  fort  itself.  Its  dead  commandant 
Beaujeu  was  immediately  succeeded  by  Dumas — the  officer 
whom  readers  will  remember  as  having  led  the  French- 
Indian  attack  at  Braddock's  Field  after  the  early  fall  of 
the  gallant  Beaujeu.  Some  time  in  '57  M.  de  Lignery 
relieved  Dumas  in  his  command,  and  reinforcements  to  the 
amount  of  four  hundred  men  were  furnished  from  Canada. 

It  was  some  time  before  the  remaining  French  and  their 
Delaware  and  Shawnee  allies  discovered  the  woful  state  of 
panic  and  demoralization  which  followed  the  great  battle ; 
but  when  small,  adventurous  parties  of  scouts  and  robbers 
brought  back  news  how  their  mere  presence  even  put  whole 
ooinmunities  to  flight,  and  how  houses,  crops,  cattle,  and 


462  OLD   FORT   DUQTJESNE. 

the  entire  settlements  were  deserted,  both  French  and  In« 

• 

dians  entered  upon  their  horrid  work  with  alacrity  and 
with  a  keen  relish  for  blood  and  slaughter. 

Many  of  the  friendly  Indians  living  along  both  sides  of 
the  Allegheny  Mountains,  became  at  first  discouraged, 
then  defiant,  and  then  hostile,  joining  with  the  western  banda 
to  burn,  murder  and  destroy,  until  the  whole  country  from 
New  York  down  deep  into  Virginia  became  one  vast  theatre 
for  the  most  wanton  destruction  and  inhuman  barbarities. 

Our  old  friend  Scarooyaddy  made  many  ineffectual  at 
tempts  to  arouse  our  provincial  Assembly  to  a  sense  of  the 
in.mineut  danger.  lie  pleaded,  reasoned,  scolded  and  de 
nounced  in  turn,  but  all  in  vain.  He  then  visited  the 
friendly  Indians  west  to  secure  their  alliance  and  aid  iu 
beating  back  the  bands  which,  under  Shingiss,  Guyasutha, 
Killbuck,  Blackhoof  and  other  Indian  chieftains  of  prowess 
and  renown,  were  devastating  the  border.  This  failed.  He 
then  visited  the  Six  Nations  in  New  York  to  secure  their 
assistance.  Even  these  powerful  tribes — secretly,  if  not 
openly  in  league  with  the  western  hostile  bands — were 
found  sullen  and  indifferent,  and  gave  nothing  but  empty 
promises. 

The  only  redeeming  feature  in  that  whole  period  was  the 
successful  expedition  which  Colonel  John  Armstrong  made 
September  '56,  against  Kittanning,  at  that  time  occupied 
by  Delaware  Indians,  headed  by  the  brave  but  cruel  Cap 
tain  Jacobs,  and  the  point  and  direction  from  which  most 
of  the  forays  against  the  Susquehanna  border  were  made. 
The  village  was  attacked  in  the  night,  a  number  of  housea 
b  irned  and  Indians  killed,  including  Jacobs  and  some  of 
his  wives,  and  a  great  many  white  captives  set  free. 

In  fine,  these  were  sad  and  humiliating  days  for  England, 
both  at  home  and  abroad.  Everything  British  was  at  the 
very  lowest  ebb.  There  was  nothing  but  defeat,  disgrace, 
end  despair ;  and  so,  indeed,  it  continued  until  the  great 


GEN.  JAMES  GRANT. 


THE  FOBTUNES   OP   OLD   FORT   DUQUEJ3NB.          463 

man  after  whom  Pittsburgh  was  named  seized  the  helm  of 
State.  His  nerve  and  decision  and  ability  soon  put  a  new 
complexion  on  matters. 

Among  his  very  first  resolves  was  to  make  a  second  at 
tempt  to  take  Fort  Duquesne,  and  to  recover  to  the  English 
crown  the  vast  domain  given  up  to  the  French  at  Brad- 
dock's  Field ;  and  to  this  end  he  ordered  the  immediate 
collection,  in  Eastern  Pennsylvania,  of  a  large  force,  under 
a  brave  and  skilful  general. 

The  army  of  the  Scotch  General  John  Forbes — the 
"  iron-headed,"  as  he  was  called — was  nearly  six  thousand 
strong,  composed  of  about  thirteen  hundred  Highlanders, 
and  the  rest  chiefly  Virginia  and  Pennsylvania  troops. 
At  Raystown  (now  Bedford)  he  halted,  and  sent  forward 
Colonel  Bouquet  with  two  thousand  men,  to  occupy  the 
Loyal  Hanua. 

The  detachment  by  Bouquet  of  eight  hundred  men  under 
Major  Grant ;  the  advance,  and  empty  bravado  of  that 
officer  under  the  very  walls  of  Fort  Duquesne ;  the  sub 
sequent  sally  of  the  French  and  Indians  from  the  fort,  by 
which  Grant's,  army  was  flanked  on  both  sides  of  the  hill 
which  now  bears  his  name  and  situate  right  in  the  centre 
of  Pittsburg,  and  his  force  only  saved  from  utter  annihi 
lation  by  a  stand  made  by  the  Provincial  troops,  are  all 
well-known  matters  of  history  and  we  need  not  dwell  on 
them.  It  is  sad,  however,  to  be  compelled  to  relate  that 
De  Lignery  was  cowardly  enough  to  deliver  five  of  the 
prisoners  taken  at  that  rout  to  be  burned  at  the  stake,  and 
that  the  remainder  were  tomahawked  in  cold  blood  on  the 
parade  ground  of  the  fort. 

The  triumph  at  Grant's  Hill  almost  brought  the  French 
to  ruin,  for,  as  after  the  battle  of  Braddock's  Field,  so  now, 
the  lake  Indians,  believing  the  English  army  completely 
defeated,  deserted  for  their  distant  homes.  A  most  timely 
visit,  just  at  thy  time,  of  the  Moravian  Missionary,  C 


464  OLD   FORT  DUQUESNE. 

Frederick  Post,  to  the  Delaware  and  Shawnee  chiefs  be 
tween  Duquesne  and  Beaver,  completed  the  demoralization 
of  the  French.  These  two  tribes  were  found  very  sick  of 
the  wai  and  most  anxious  to  return  to  their  allegiance,  so 
that  when  Forbes'  army — after  innumerable  difficulties 
and  disheartening  delays — drew  near,  De  Lignery,  after 
firing  the  buildings,  destroying  the  stores,  and  all  possible 
of  the  works,  ended  by  blowing  up  the  magazine,  and  em 
barking  in  boats,  some  down  the  Ohio  and  others  up  the 
Allegheny.  On  the  24th  of  November,  1758,  Forbes'  army 
had  encamped  at  Turtle  Creek,  his  provisions,  forage,  etc., 
so  nearly  exhausted,  that  even  from  that  advanced  point, 
a  retreat  was  seriously  advised  by  a  council  of  war. 

The  sick  and  emaciated  but  stout-hearted  old  General — 
who  was  carried  on  a  litter,  all  the  way  from  and  back  to 
Philadelphia,  where  he  shortly  after  died — would  not  hear 
of  it,  but  swore  he  would  sleep  in  the  fort  the  next  night. 
That  very  evening  a  great  smoke,  in  the  direction  of  the 
fort,  was  reported,  and  at  midnight  the  whole  camp  waa 
startled  by  the  dull,  heavy  sound  of  some  great  explosion. 

It  was  the  magazine  of  the  old  fort;  and  encouraged  by 
these  signs,  the  army  pressed  on,  the  Provincials,  in  their 
fringed  hunting-shirts,  leading  the  way  ;  next  came  the 
Royal  Americans,  their  drums  beating  a  lively  march,  fol 
lowed  by  the  old  iron-headed  General,  his  wasted  form 
reclining  in  a  litter;  and  last  of  all  came  the  Highlanders, 
in  a  long  and  picturesque  line,  in  their  kilts  and  plaids— 
the  "  petticoat  warriors,"  as  the  Indians  called  them. 

As  they  all  approached  the  fort,  they  passed  along  a 
race-path,  on  either  side  of  which  a  horrid  sight  presented 
itself.  A  long  row  of  naked  stakes  were  planted,  on  each 
)f  which  was  impaled  the  head  of  a  Highlander,  killed  at 
Grant's  defeat,  while  beneath  was  suspended  his  kilt  and 
accoutrements.  Disgusted  and  provoked  at  the  scene,  it  if 
•aid  the  Americans  quickened  pace  aud  hastened  on; 


THE   FOKTUNE8   OF   OLD   FORT   DUQUE8XB.  465 

but  not  so  the  Highlanders.     One  who  was  present  thus 
relates  the  exciting  scene  that  followed  : 

"  The  first  intimation  given  by  the  Scots  of  their  dis 
covery  of  the  insulted  remains  of  their  butchered  brothers 
was  a  subdued,  threatening  murmur,  like  the  angry  buzzing 
of  a  swarm  of  bees.  Rapidly  swelling  in  violence,  it  in 
creased  to  a  fierce,  continuous,  low  shriek  of  rage  and  grief, 
that  none  who  listened  to  would  willingly  hear  again.  In 
this  moment,  officers  as  well  as  men  seemed  to  have 
abandoned  every  sentiment  but  of  quick  and  bloody  ven 
geance,  and,  inspired  by  a  common  fury,  cast  all  discipline 
to  the  winds.  Their  muskets  were  dashed  upon  the  ground, 
and,  bursting  from  the  ranks,  the  infuriated  Gael,  with 
brandished  claymore,  rushed  madly  on  with  hope  to  find 
an  enemy  on  whom  to  accomplish  retribution.  Startled 
at  the  sound  of  swiftly  tramping  feet,  the  amazed  Provin 
cial  looked  round  to  see  the  headlong  torrent  sweep  by, 
ourthening  the  air  with  imprecations,  and  foaming  '  like 
mad  boars  engaged  in  battle.'  " 

Too  late.  The  fort  was  in  flames,  and  the  last  boat  of 
the  flying  Frenchmen  was  disappearing  in  the  evening 
mist  that  hung  around  Smoky  Island.  In  place  of  old 
Fort  Duquesne — the  scene  of  so  many  exploits  and  the 
bone  of  contention  for  so  long  a  time  between  two  great 
and  powerful  nations — there  was  now  but  a  heap  of  smok 
ing  ruins,  the  stacks  of  some  thirty  chimneys  only  remaining 
to  mark  where  the  houses  stood,  and  sixteen  barrels  of 
gunpowder  and  bull  and  a  carf-load  of  scalping  knives— 
discovered  in  the  only  magazine  which  had  refused  to  fire 
— were  the  only  spoils  which  remained  to  be  gathered.  But 
a  small  force  was  left,  the  main  army  marching  East  soon 
after.  A  square  stockade  for  two  hundred  men,  under 
Colonel  Hugh  Mercer,  was  built,  which  was  succeeded  the 
next  year  by  the  more  imposing  and  much  more  costly 
structure,  Fort  Pitt. 
90 


466  OLD   FORT   DUQUESJJE. 

BTRAXQE   DISCOVERY  BY  THE   YOUNG  SIR  PETER   HALKEl 
OF  THE  SKELETONS   OF   HIS   FATHER   AND   BROTHER. 

No  sooner  had  General  Forbes  possession  of  the  fort,  or 
rather  its  site,  than  Major  Halket,  the  son  of  Sir  Peter 
Halket,  and  successor  to  his  title  and  estates,  resolved  to 
visit  the  battle-ground  of  Braddock's  Field  with  a  company 
of  sharpshooters,  under  command  of  Captain  West,  brother 
of  the  great  painter,  Sir  Benjamin  West.  The  young  Sii 
Peter  had  piously  accompanied  the  Highlanders  to  America 
mainly  to  try  and  discover  the  remains  of  his  father  and 
brother,  whose  sad  and  peculiar  death,  at  Braddock'a 
Field,  we  have  already  described. 

By  interrogating  some  of  the  Indians  who  had  fought 
with  the  French  at  that  massacre,  he  found  one  who  said 
he  had  seen  an  officer,  answering  the  Major's  description, 
fall  near  a  remarkable  tree,  which  he  thought  he  could  dis* 
cover,  stating,  moreover,  that  the  incident  was  impressed 
on  his  memory  by  observing  a  young  subaltern,  who,  in 
running  to  the  officer's  assistance,  was  shot  dead  on 
reaching  the  spot,  and  who  fell  across  the  other's  body. 

The  Major  had  a  mournful  conviction  on  his  mind  that 
the  two  officers  were  his  father  and  brother,  and  the  ex 
pedition,  commanded  by  Captain  West,  and  piloted  by  the 
Indians,  took  up  their  melancholy  march.  From  Galt'g 
Life  of  Benjamin  West  we  give  this  brief  account  of  this 
remarkable  excursion. 

"  Captain  West  and  his  companions  proceeded  through 
the  woods  and  along  the  banks  of  the  river,  towards  the 
scene  of  the  battle.  The  Indians  regarded  the  expedition 
as  a  religious  rite,  and  guided  the  troops  with  awe  and  in 
profound  silence.  The  soldiers  were  affected  with  senti 
ments  not  less  serious,  and  as  they  explored  the  bewilder 
ing  labyrinths  of  those  vast  forests,  their  hearts  were  often 
melted  with  inexpressive  sorrow,  for  they  frequently  found 


THE   FORTUNES   OF   OLD   FORT    DTTQUESNE.  467 

skeletons  lying  across  the  trunks  of  fallen  trees — a  mourn 
ful  proof  to  their  imaginations,  that  the  men  who  sat  there 
had  perished  of  hunger,  in  vainly  attempting  to  find  their 
way  to  the  plantations.  Sometimes  their  feelings  were 
raised  to  the  utmost  pitch  of  horror  by  the  sight  of  skulls 
and  hones  scattered  on  the  ground — a  certain  indication 
that  the  bodies  had  been  devoured  by  wild  beasts ;  and  in 
other  places  they  saw  the  blackness  of  ashes  amidst  the 
relics — the  tremendous  evidence  of  atrocious  rites. 

"  At  length  they  reached  a  turn  of  the  river,  not  far 
from  the  principal  scene  of  destruction,  and  the  Indian  who 
remembered  the  death  of  the  two  officers  stopped ;  the 
detachment  also  halted.  He  then  looked  round  in  quest 
of  some  object  which  might  recall,  distinctly,  his  recollec 
tion  of  the  ground,  and  suddenly  darted  into  the  woods. 
The  soldiers  rested  their  arms  without  speaking.  •  A  shriU 
cry  was  soon  after  heard,  and  the  other  guides  made  sign? 
for  the  troops  to  follow  them  towards  the  spot  from  whicb 
it  came. 

"  In  a  short  time  they  reached  the  Indian  warrior,  who. 
oy  his  cry,  had  announced  to  his  companions  that  he  had 
found  the  place  where  he  was  posted  on  the  day  of  battle. 
As  the  troops  approached,  he  pointed  to  the  tree  under 
which  the  officers  had  fallen.  Captain  West  halted  his 
men  around  the  spot,  and  with  Sir  Peter  Halket,  and  other 
officers,  formed  a  circle,  while  the  Indians  removed  the 
leaves  which  thickly  covered  the  ground.  The  skeletons 
were  found,  as  the  Indians  expected,  lying  across  each 
other.  The  officers  having  looked  at  them  some  time,  the 
Major  said,  that  as  his  father  had  an  artificial  tooth,  he 
thought  he  might  be  able  to  ascertain  if  they  were  indeed 
his  bones  and  those  of  his  brother. 

"  The  Indians  were,  therefore,  ordered  to  remove  the 
skeleton  of  the  youth,  and  to  bring  to  view  that  of  the  old 
officer.  This  was  done,  and  after  a  short  examination. 


468 


OLD   FORT   DUQUKSNE. 


Major  Halket  exclaimed,  '  It  is  my  father,'  and  fell  back 
into  the  arms  of  his  companions.  The  pioneers  then  dug 
a  grave,  and  the  bones  being  laid  in  it  together,  a  High- 
laud  plaid  was  spread  over  them,  and  they  were  interred 
with  the  customary  honors."  (See  Appendix  Z.) 

NOTE. — Subjoined  is  a  representation  of  Bouquet's  old  Block-house, 
the  only  existing  relic,  or  rather  suggestion  of  Fort  Duquesne.  It 
Btill  stands,  strong  and  staunch,  and  the  loopholes  for  musketry  plainlj 
visible,  amid  a  crowd  of  shabby,  dingy  houses  near  the  river  junction. 
It  was  built  over  the  ruins  of  the  evacuated  post  by  Col.  Bouquet. 
The  stone  in  the  facade  bears  in  rude  characters  the  inscription  : 
"A.  D.  17G4.  COL.  BOUQUET." 

For  the  purpose  of  better  preservation,  it  has  lately  been  removed  to 
<ue  New  City  Hall,  by  order  of  the  Councils  of  Pittsburgh. 


APPENDIX. 


A. 

WASHINGTON'S  THREE  VISITS   TO   "THE   FORKS." 

The  first  account  and  description  of  the  site  on  which  a  vast  and 
prosperous  city  is  afterwards  built,  is  always  of  interest.  The  very 
earliest  visit  on  record  to  the  area  at  the  junction  of  the  Allegheny  and 
the  Monongahela,  and  now  forming  what  may  he  called  Pittf  aurgh 
proper,  was  by  no  less  a  man  than  Major  Washington,  who  flopped 
there  on  the  24th  of  November,  1753,  when  on  his  mission  frcn  Gov. 
Dinwiddie  to  the  French  forts  at  Venango  and  French  Creek.  Arriv 
ing  at  Frazier's,  near  Turtle  Creek,  his  baggage  was  carried  <  own  the 
Monongahela  in  charge  of  his  servants,  while  he  and  Captain  Gist,  his 
guide,  went  down  by  land.  His  journal  contains  the  folloviur  notice 
of  the  site  where  now  stands  Pittsburgh,  and  where,  at  thJ;  time,  u4 
human  being  resided : 

"  As  I  got  down  before  the  canoe,  I  spent  some  time  in  viewing  the 
rivers  and  the  land  in  the  fork,  which  I  think  extremely  veil  situated 
for  a  fort,  as  it  has  the  absolute  command  of  both  rivers.  The  land  at 
the  point  is  twenty-five  feet  above  the  common  surface  of  the  water, 
and  a  considerable  bottom  of  flat,  well-timbered  land  all  around  it, 
very  convenient  for  building.  The  rivers  are  each  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  across,  and  run  here  very  nearly  at  right  angles,  Allegheny  bear 
ing  north-east  and  Monongahela  south-east.  The  former  of  these  two 
is  a  very  rapid  and  swift-running  water,  the  other  deep  and  still,  with 
out  any  perceptible  fall. 

"  About  two  miles  from  this,  on  the  south-east  side  of  the  river,  at  the 
place  where  the  Ohio  Company  intended  to  erect  a  fort,  lives  Shingiss, 
King  of  the  Delawares.  We  called  upon  him  to  invite  him  to  a  coun 
cil  at  Logstown.  As  I  had  taken  a  good  deal  of  notice  of  the  situation 
at  the  fork,  my  curiosity  led  me  to  examine  this  more  particularly, 
and  I  think  it  greatly  inferior,  either  for  defence  or  advantages,  espe 
cially  the  latter;  for  a  fort  at  the  fork  would  be  equally  well  situated 
on  the  Ohio,  and  have  the  entire  command  of  the  Monongahela,  which 
runs  up  our  settlement,  and  is  extremely  well  designed  for  wp.ter  car 
riage,  as  it  is  of  a  deep,  still  nature.  Besides  a  fort  at  the  fork  might 
be  built  at  much  less  expense  than  at  the  other  place." 

Washington's  second  visit  to  the  Forks,  was  in  '58,  fiv-{  years  later, 
wiieu  General  Forbes  occupied  the  smouldering  ruius  of  '/Id  Fort 

1C* 


470  OLD   FORT   DUQUESXE. 

Duquesne.  A  small  military  work,  for  temporary  purposes,  was  com 
menced  on  the  Monongahela,  and  two  hundred  men  under  command 
of  Colonel,  afterwards  General  Hugh  Mercer  of  Virginia,  were  left  in 
charge.  The  very  next  year  was  commenced  an  extensive  and  formid 
able  five-sided  fortification  to  which  the  name  of  Fort  Pitt  was  given, 
from  which  Pittsburgh  derives  its  name.  It  was  built  by  General  Stan- 
wix  and  cost  the  British  Government  sixty  thousand  pounds.  It  was 
abandoned  in  1772  by  order  of  General  Gage.  The  redoubt,  which  can 
be  seen  in  Pittsburgh  this  day  in  a  state  of  good  preservation,  with  the 
loopholes  for  musketry  still  visible,  was  the  last  relic  of  British  labor 
at  the  Forks,  and  until  very  lately  had  a  stone  in  one  front  on  which 
was  rudely  carved  "Colonel  Bouquet,  1764."  It  has  lately  been  leiuo-* 
ved  by  order  of  the  Pittsburgh  Councils  for  better  preservation. 

In  1770  Washington  paid  his  third  visit  to  the  Forks,  on  his  way  to 
the  Kenhawain  company  with  Dr.  Craik,  Captain  Crawford  and  others 
to  locate  lands.  He  writes  thus  in  his  journal ;  "  We  lodged  in  what 
is  called  the  town,  distant  about  three  hundred  yards  from  the  fort,  at 
one  Semple's,  who  keeps  a  very  good  house  of  public  entertainment. 
The  houses,  which  are  built  of  logs  and  ranged  in  streets,  are  on  the 
Monongahela,  and  I  suppose  may  be  about  twenty  in  number  and  in 
habited  by  Indian  traders.  The  fort  (Pitt)  is  built  in  the  point  between 
the  Allegheny  and  Monongahela,  but  not  so  near  the  pitch  of  it  as  Fort 
Duquesne  stood.  It  is  five-sided  and  regular,  two  of  which  near  the 
land  are  of  brick — the  others,  stockade.  A  moat  encompasses  it." 

This  collection  of  log  cabins  belonging  to  Indian  traders  was  the 
commencement  of  the  large  and  opulent  city  of  Pittsburgh,  now  num 
bering  with  Allegheny  city  and  various  suburbs  nearly  tico  hundred 
thousand  souls.  It  remained  small  and  unimportant  until  after  the 
advent  of  the  large  army  despatched  thither  in  1794  to  quell  what  is 
jenerally  known  as  "the  whisky  insurrection."  After  the  insurgents 
were  scattered,  the  greater  part  of  the  troops  were  withdrawn,  but  a 
)ody  of  twenty-five  hundred  men  under  Morgan  remained  encamped 
in  the  district  all  winter.  Among  the  soldiers  who  came  west  were 
many  young  men  who  either  remained  there  or  afterwards  found  their 
way  to  a  settlement,  and  the  growth  of  the  city  was  thenceforward  as 
Steadv  and  solid  as  it  still  continues  to  be» 


B. 

SKETCH  OF  CAPTAIN  CHRISTOPHER  GIST. 

Christopher  Gist,  whom  we  have  brought  in  as  one  of  the  dramatic 
p'rt«»ice  of  our  story,  was  a  very  prominent  character  of  his  time.  His 
life,  even  for  those  days  of  stirring  action  ami  personal  daring,  was  un 
usually  crowded  with  adventure.  Hon.  James  Veech,  formerly  of 
Fayette  county,  Pa.,  has  gathered  many  details  of  him  and  his  descend 
ants.  Gist  was  a  native  of  England,  and  first  became  known  in  North 
Carolina  as  a  good  surveyor  and  fine  judge  of  land ;  a  bold  and  skilful 
woodsman,  and  an  intrepid  explorer;  and  hence  was  selected  by  the 
Ohio  Company  to  make  the  location  of  their  enormous  land  grant,  and 
procure  the  Indian  assent  thereto.  We  have,  in  our  notice  of  that  land 
association,  stated  that  in  1750  he  was  out  seven  months  on  an  excur 
sion  to  the  then  unknown,  untrodden  wilderness  beyond  the  Allegheny 
Mountains..  He  left  Colonel  Cresap's  trading  post,  on  the  Potomac, 
i'  over  to  the  Juniata,  swam  the  Allegheny  at  Sluumopiustowo, 


APPENDIX.  471 

passed  across  to  the  Ohio  without  seeing  the  Monongnhcla,  followed 
the  great  ludiau  trail  across  Big  Beaver  to  the  Muskininmi,  whore  ha 
met  Croghan  treating  with  the  Indians  in  behalf  of  Pennsylvania. 
Thence  west  to  the  Scioto  and  Miami ;  thence  down  the  Ohio  on  the 
south  side  to  near  the  Falls.  Here  he  turned  into  Kentucky,  being 
the  first  explorer  of  that  magnificent  country — the  very  paradise  of 
the  hunter  and  afterwards  made  so  celebrated  by  the  daring  exploits 
a  id  adventures  of  Boone,  Kenton,  Harrod,  and  their  successors. 

Gist  reached  his  home  on  the  Yadkin  in  May.  '51,  and  found  his 
Cdbin  in  ashes  and  his  family  scattered  by  the  Indians.  In  the  saino 
year  he  made  another  shorter  but  more  important  excursion,  and  was 
the  master  spirit  of  the  negotiations  with  the  Ohio  Indians.  In  the 
winter  of '53  he  acted  as  Washington's  guide  from  Wills  Creek  to  the 
French  post  on  French  Creek,  Pa.,  then  called  Riviere  au  Bcenfs,  on 
account  of  the  large  herds  of  buffalo  frequenting  its  margins.  He  was 
again  with  Washington  in  his  Fort  Necessity  campaign  of '54,  and  wag 
chosen  by  Braddock  as  chief  guide  to  his  expedition. 

Braddock's  defeat  seems  to  have  ended  his  agency  for  the  Ohio  Com 
pany,  and  for  some  years  he  found  ample  employment  in  defending 
the  Virginia  borders  from  Indian  forays.  In  '55  he  was  at  the  head 
of  a  company  of  scouts.  In  '56  he  was  sent  southward  ;  was  successful 
in  enlisting  the  Cherokees  into  the  English  service,  and  was  appointed 
Indian  agent  for  the  South — a  service  for  which,  wrote  Washington, 
"  I  know  of  no  person  so  well  qualified.  He  has  had  extensive  deal 
ings  with  the  Indians  ;  is  in  great  esteem  among  them  ;  well  acquainted 
with  their  manners  and  customs  ;  indefatigable  and  patient,  and  as  to 
his  honesty,  capacity  and  zeal,  I  dare  venture  to  engage." 

What  was  called  "  Gist's  Plantation"  was  situate  on  the  Mount 
Braddock  lands,  in  Fayette  county,  near  Uniontown,  and  within  a 
short  distance  of  Dunbar's  camp  ana  the  scene  of  Washington's  fight 
with  Jumouville.  He  had  induced  a  number  of  Scotch-Irish  families  to 
join  him  there,  among  others  Cromwell,  his  son-in-law,  and  the  Stewart 
family,  which  gave  the  name  to  "  Stewart's  Crossings,"  where  Counells- 
ville  now  stands.  Gist  lived  at  this  settlement  but  a  short  time,  and 
only  to  seat  his  family,  returning  to  his  business  in  the  South  to  die, 
but  exactly  where  is  unknown. 

Gist  had  three  sons,  Nathaniel,  Thomas  and  Richard,  and  two 
daughters,  Violet  and  Anne.  Nathaniel  did  good  service  in  Brad- 
dock's  campaign,  and  was  the  Colonel  Gist  of  the  Virginia  line  in  the 
Revolution,  removing  to  and  dying  in  Kentucky.  Richard  lived  in 
Fayette  county  till  1771,  sold  out  his  interest  to  Thomas,  and  was  killed 
in  one  of  the  Revolutionary  battles.  Thomas  became  a  man  of  local 
note,  was  Justice  for  Bedford,  and  afterwards  for  Westmoreland  coun« 
ties,  and  presided  in  the  courts  of  that  county. 

c. 

WHO  COMMANDED  THE  FORT  DURING  THE  BATTLE. 

It  is  a  very  singular  fact,  that  until  very  late  years  it  was  not  known 
who  was  in  command  of  Fort  Duquesne  at  the  time  of  General  lirad- 
dock's  defeat.  Not  only  do  the  English,  American,  and  even  French 
historians  speak  of  Captain  Contrecoeur  as  the  then  commandant,  and 
of  Captain  Beaujeu — who  led  the  French-Indian  force  10  the  battle, 
there  he  was  kJUed  almost  at  the  first  fire — as  second  in  command 


472  OLD    FORT    DUQUESNE. 

but  eren  ottr  own  local  historians,  Neville  B.  Craig  and  Winthrof 
Bargent,  the  latter  of  whom,  under  the  auspices  of  the  Pennsylvania 
Historical  Society,  published,  so  late  as  1856,  a  very  full  and  exhaus 
tive  monograph  on  "  Braddock's  expedition  against  Fort  Duquesne." 
Sargent  even  goes  so  far  as  to  assert,  that  as  Braddock  drew  near, 
Contrecieur  had  almost  decided  to  abandon  his  position  without  strik 
ing  a  blow  ;  if  not  that,  he  was  certainly  prepared  to  surrender  on 
terms  of  honorable  capitulation,  and  as  late  as  the  7th  had  announced 
Do  definite  conclusion. 

"  On  the  8th,"  Sargent  writes,  "  de  Beaujeu,  a  captain  of  the  regu 
lars,  proposed  to  the  commander  that  he  might  go  forth  with  a  suitable 
band  to  prepare  an  ambuscade  for  the  English  on  the  banks  of  the 
Monongahela,  and  to  dispute  with  them  the  passage  of  the  second  ford. 
If  we  may  believe  tradition,  it  was  with  undisguised  reluctance  thnt 
Contrecceur  complied  with  this  request,  and  even  then,  it  is  said,  re 
fused  to  assign  troops  for  the  enterprise,  bidding  him  call  for  volun 
teers  as  for  a  forlorn  hope.  To  that  summons  the  whole  garrison 
responded,"  etc. 

Sargent  goes  on  to  say  that  for  his  conduct  at  the  battle  of  Braddook's 
Field,  Captain  Dumas — Beaujeu  having  been  killed  at  the  battle-  was 
early  in  the  subsequent  year  promoted  to  succeed  Contrecceur,  and 
proceeds  to  mention  a  romantic  story  to  the  effect,  in  which,  however, 
lie  does  not  put  implicit  faith,  that  jealousy  of  Dumas'  success  induced 
Contrecceur  to  persecute  him,  sending  him  home  on  a  charge  of  pur 
loining  the  public  stores  ;  that  he  was  tried  and  cashiered,  and  retired 
to  Provence  in  disgrace ;  and  that  during  the  Revolutionary  Wai 
Washington  informed  Lafayette  of  these  circumstances,  whose  influence 
speedily  brought  Dumas  in  triumph  to  receive  the  gra.de  of  a  genera/ 
officer. 

Now  this  is  all  -wrong.  Contrecoeur  was  not  the  commandant  of  Fort 
Duquesne  at  the  time  of  the  battle,  but  Lionel  de  Beaujeu.  This  admit/ 
of  no  doubt  whatever,  and  the  discovery  of  the  truth  only  at  this  late 
day  affords  another  evidence  of  the  uncertainty  of  history. 

Our  attention  was  first  called  to  the  error  by  Judge  James  Veech,  of  the 
Pittsburgh  bar,  and  a  gentleman  of  scholarly  attainments  and  remark 
ably  well  posted  in  all  matters  pertaining  to  the  early  history  of  western 
Pennsylvania.  His  assertion  was  confirmed  by  "a  late  visit  to  the 
rooms  of  the  Pennsylvania  Historical  Society,  in  Philadelphia,  where 
almost  the  first  book  put  into  our  hands  by  the  Librarian  was  a  small 
and  rare  French  work,  presented  to  the  Society  by  Bishop  O'Connor, 
and  unearthed  some  years  since  at  Quebec  or  Montreal.  It  is  the  offi- 
cial  register  kept  by  Denis  Baron,  a  Franciscan  Friar  and  Chaplain  at 
Fort  Duquesne  in  1754,  containing  a  brief  record  of  the  marriages, 
baptisms,  and  deaths  at  the  fort  during  '54  and  '55.  These  are  coun 
tersigned  so  late  as  March  by  Contrecceur,  who  was  then  commandant. 
\Ve  find  the  following  important  entrv  on  the  12th  of  July:  "  In  the 
year  1755,  the  9th  of  July,  was  killed  in  the  battle  fought  with  the 
English,  M.  Leonard  Daniel,  Esq.,  Sieur  de  Beaujeu,  captain  in  the 
Infantry,  commandant  of  Fort  Duquesne  and  of  the  army,  who  hnd 
beeu  to  confession  and  made  his  devotions  the  same  day.  His  body 
was  interred  on  the  12th  of  the  same  month,  in  the  cemetery  of  Fort 
Duquesne  (under  the  title  of  the  Assumption  of  the  Blessed  Virgin 
of  the  Beautiful  River),  and  that  with  the  ordinary  ceremonies  by  us 
the  undersigned  Recollect  Priest,  King's  Chaplain  in  said  fort ;  in 
testimony  whereof  we  have  signed, 

Friar,  DKXY8  BAROX.  P.  R.,  Chaplain." 


APPEXDTX.  473 

In  further  pursuance  of  this  subject,  we  found  that  the  French  lost 
two  other  officers  that  day,  Lieutenant  de  Carqueville  and  Ensign  da 
la  Perade.  and  had  several  wounded.  The  whole  killed  amounted  to 
thirty  three-quarters  of  whom  were  Indians.  We  found,  also,  that 
Neville  H.  Craig,  Esq.,  a  very  reliable  and  pains-taking  historian,  iu 
the  Pittsburgh  Gazette  of  July  5th,  1858,  had  first  published  a  transla 
tion  of  this  register  with  certain  interesting  notes.  A  journal  of  Mr. 
Godefrey,  an  officer  of  the  fort,  and  an  account  in  the  French  War  De 
partment,  all  concur  in  calling  de  Beaujeu  commandant  of  the  fort  and 
the  forces  there.  An  article  iu  the  "New  York  Historical  Magazine  "  of 
September,  1863,  exposes  the  historical  error  which  has  so  long  ob 
tained,  but  itself  falls  into  the  error  of  calling  Contrecoeur  Crevec<sur. 
At  the  Pennsylvania  Historical  Society  we  also  came  across  a  memoif 
of  Beaujeu,  by  which  we  find  he  was  born  at  Montreal,  1711 ;  had  won 
the  cross  of  a  Knight  of  St.  Louis,  and  for  a  time  commanded  at  Fort 
Niagara. 

D 

WASHINGTON'S  MISSION  TO  THE  FRENCH. 

A  very  memorable  event  before  the  outbreak  of  Braddock's  war,  was 
the  visit  of  Major  Washington — then  only  in  his  twenty-first  year — to 
the  French  commandant  at  Venango,  on  the  Allegheny.  Both  English 
and  French  laid  claim  to  the  magnificent  domain  west  of  the  Allegheny 
Mountains — the  former  by  right  of  purchase  from  the  Six  Nations, 
who  themselves  claimed  by  right  of  conquest,  and  the  latter  by  right 
of  discovery,  asserting  that  by  law  and  custom  La  Salle's  discovery  of 
the  Mississippi  gave  dominion  over  all  the  vast  country  watered  by  it 
and  its  tributaries.  The  French  had  been  exercising  sovereignty  for 
several  years,  capturing  or  turning  back  English  traders,  and  building 
a  line  of  forts  to  circumscribe  the  English  settlements.  The  British 
colonies  became  jealous  and  indignant,  and  Governor  Dinwiddie  sent 
voung  Washington  to  find  out  the  French  intentions  and  ascertain 
the  temper  of  the  Indians  in  that  region. 

No  better  man  could  have  been  selected  for  the  lonely  and  perilous 
journey.  The  very  same  day  he  received  his  orders,  with  the  commis 
sion  of  Major,  he  started,  hiring  four  Indian  traders  to  accompany  and 
Captain  Gist  to  pilot  him.  Frazier's  house,  hard  by  which  was  after 
wards  fought  Braddock's  battle,  was  reached  November  22d,  '53.  His 
first  impression*  of  the  junction  where  Pittsburgh  now  stands,  we  give 
elsewhere.  He  had  early  interview  with  the  Half-King,  Tannacharison, 
the  predecessor  of  Scarooyaddy  in  that  office,  and  a  wise  and  powerful 
Seneca  Sachem  ;  with  Shintriss,  king  of  the  Delawares ;  with  Scarou- 
ya-Jdy  and  other  noted  chiefs.  He  found  them  earnestly  opposed  to 
French  encroachments,  and  a  party  of  Indian  guides,  with  the  Halt- 
King  at  their  head,  agreed  to  accompany  the  English  to  the.first  French 
fort,  which  was  at  the  mouth  of  llivi&re  an  Bteufs,  now  called  French 
Creek. 

•This  was  reached  December  4th.  They  found  the  French  colors 
hoisted  on  the  house  whence  John  Frazicr,  gunsmith,  the  Indian 
trader  and  lieutenant  of  our  story,  had  been  driven,  and  had  an  inter 
view  with  the  famed  Captain  Joncaire,  a  shrewd,  politic  and  artful 
French  agent  among  the  Indians,  over  whom  he  had  great  influence, 
speaking  all  their  tongues.  Liquor  soon  flowed  freely,  and  Joncaire 
fooa**xl  that  in  spring  they  would  take  possession  of  the  whole  Ohio 


474  OLD   FORT   DUQUESXE. 

country,  and  tried  all  he  could  to  make  drunk  and  mislead  the  India* 
chiefs  with  Washington.  Tannacharison  remained  firm,  however, 
warning  the  French  off  the  soil  with  a  speech-belt.  Joncaire  refused 
to  receive  it,  but  directed  the  Major  to  his  superior,  at  the  fort  above, 
Bieur  Legardeur  de  St.  Pierre,  a  Knight  of  the  order  of  St.  Louis. 
This  fort,  located  where  Waterford,  Pa.,  now  stands,  was  reached  ou 
December  llth,  the  Major  and  his  letter  being  received  courteously  by 
the  one-eyed  commander.  Washington  used  his  eyes  busily,  jotiiug 
down  the  minutest  particular,  and  finding  in  fifty  birch  and  one  hun 
dred  and  seventy  pine  canoes  a  startling  confirmation  of  Joncaire's 
boast  that  a  fort  was  to  be  built  at  the  forks  of  the  Ohio,  as  soon  as 
spring  opened.  The  French  Commander  openly  claimed  all  the  terri 
tory  even  as  far  east  as  the  Susquehanua,  and  said  they  intended  tak 
ing  immediate  possession. 

With  this  important  news,  Washington  hastened  off  by  canoe,  reach 
ing  Joncaire  again  on  the  22d  December. 

Here  the  horses  were  found  so  weak  and  the  baggage  so  heavy,  that 
they  were  given  up,  and  after  going  with  them  three  days,  Washington 
and  Gist,  guns  in  hand  and  packs  on  back,  started  through  the  woods 
on  foot,  piloted  by  a  bad  and  treacherous  Indian  guide.  The  very  next 
day  a  party  of  French  Indians  lay  in  wait  for  them,  and  one  of  them, 
writes  Washington,  in  his  journal,  "  fired  at  Mr.  Gist  or  me,  not  fifteen 
steps  oft',  but  fortunately  missed.  We  took  this  fellow  into  custody, 
and  kept  him  until  about  nine  o'clock  at  night,  then  let  him  go,  and 
walked  all  the  remaining  part  of  the  night  without  making  any  stop. 
The  next  day  we  continued  travelling  until  quite  dark,  and  got  to  the 
Allegheny  about  two  miles  from  Shannopins.  We  exacted  to  have 
found  the  river  frozen,  but  it  was  not,  only  about  fifty  yards  from 
each  shore.  The  ice,  I  suppose,  had  broken  up  above,  for  it  was  driv 
ing  in  vast  quantities." 

"  There  was  no  way  forgetting  over,"  continues  the  Major's  journal, 
"  but  on  a  raft,  which  we  set  about  with  but  one  poor  hatchet,  and  fin 
ished  just  after  sunsetting.  This  was  a  whole  day's  work!  We  next 
got  it  launched,  then  went  on  board  of  it  and  set  off,  but  before  we 
were  halfway  over,  we  were  jammed  in  the  ice  in  such  a  manner  that 
we  expected  every  moment  our  raft  to  sink,  and  ourselves  to  ]>erish.  I 
i>ut  out  ray  setting  pole  to  try  and  stop  the  raft  that  the  ice  might  pass 
by,  when  the  rapidity  of  the  stream  threw  it  with  so  much  violence 
against  the  pole,  that  it  jerked  me  out  into  ten  feet  of  water;  but  i 
fortunately  saved  myself  by  catching  hold  of  one  of  the  raft  logs." 

"  Notwithstanding  all  our  efforts,  we  could  not  get  to  either  shore, 
but  were  obliged,  as  we  were  near  an  island,  to  quit  our  raft  and  make  to 
it.  The  cold  was  so  extremely  severe  that  Mr.  Gist  had  all  his  fingers 
md  some  of  his  toes  frozen  ;  and  the  water  was  shut  up  so  hard  that 
we  found  no  difficulty  in  getting  off  the  island  on  the  ice  in  the  morn 
ing,  and  went  to  Mr.  Frazier's.  As  we  intended  to  take  horses  here, 
mid  it  required  some  time  to  find  them,  I  went. up  about  three  miles  to 
Uie  mouth  of  the  Youghiogheuy  to  visit  Queen  Alaquippa,  who  had 
expressed  great  concern  that  •we  passed  her  in  going  to  the  fort.  I 
made  her  a  present  of  a  match-coat  and  a  bottle  of  rum,  which  latter 
wis  thought  much  the  better  present  of  the  two." 

This  island  was  Wainwright's  Island,  now  almost  completely  de 
stroyed,  but  which  lay  near  Ilerr's,  and  is  about  three  miles  above  tlm 
Oli io  forks.  The  former  island  lay  near  the  eastern  bank, pnd  that 
branch  of  the  river  might  well  freeze  over  in  a  night,  but  the  wide 
shanuel  )^et  ween  Ilerr's  Island  and  Shannopins  could  scarcely  so  easily 


APPENDIX.  475 

frf-eze  over.  Now,  Gist  also  kept  a  journal  on  this  merr.orable  expedi 
tion.  His  Hccount  of  the  attempt  by  the  Indian  guide  at  murder  is  so 
rery  creditalile  to  Washington's  kind  aud  humane  heart,  that  we  will 
quote  the  passage  at  length  : 

"  We  rose  early  in  the  morning,  and  set  out  about  two  o'clock,  ami 
gt.t  to  Murderingtown,  on  the  southeast  fork  of  Beaver  Creek.  Hero 
we  met  an  Indian  whom  I  thought  I  had  seen  at  Joncaire's.  This  ici- 
l<-w  called  me  by  my  Indian  name  and  pretended  to  be  glad  to  see  me. 
1  thought  very  ill  of  the  fellow,  but  did  not  care  to  let  the  Major  know 
1  mistrusted  him.  But  he  soon  mistrusted  him  as  much  as  I  did.  The 
Indian  said  he  could  hear  a  gun  from  his  cabin,  and  steered  us  more 
northwardly.  We  grew  uneasy,  and  then  he  said  two  whoops  might 
be  heard  from  his  cabin.  We  went  two  miles  further.  Then  the  Major 
said  lie  would  stay  at  the  next  water,  and  wedesired  the  Indian  to  stop 
at  the  next  water.  We  came  to  water;  we  came  to  a  clear  meadow. 
It  was  very  light,  and  snow  was  on  the  ground. 

"The  Indian  made  a  stop,  and  turned  about.  The  Major  saw  him 
point  his  gun  towards  us  and  he  fired.  Said  the  Major,  '  Are  you 
shot?'  'No!'  said  I ;  upon  which  the  Indian  ran  forward  to  a  big 
standing  white  oak,  and  began  loading  his  gun,  but  we  were  soon  with 
him.  Iirould/t'ive  killed  him,  but  the  Major  would  not  suffer  me.  We 
let  him  charge  his  gun  ;  we  found  he  put  in  ball ;  then  we  took  care 
»f  him  ;  either  the  Major  or  1  always  stood  bv  the  guns.  We  made 
Him  m*tke  a  fire  for  us  by  a  little  run,  as  if  we  intended  to  sleep  there. 

said  to  the  Major :  '  As  you  will  not  have  him  killed,  we  must  get 
aim  away,  and  then  we  must  travel  all  night ; '  upon  which  I  said  to 
the  Indian:  '  I  suppose  you  were  lost,  and  fired  your  gun.'  He  said 
he  knew  the  way  to  his  cabin,  and  it  was  but  a  little  way.  '  Well,' 
said  I,  '  do  you  go  home,  and  as  we  are  tired,  we  will  follow  your  track 
in  the  morning;  and  here  isacake  of  bread  for  you,  and  you'must  give 
us  meal  for  it  in  the  morning.'  He  was  glad  to  get  away.  I  followed 
him  and  listened  until  he  was  fairly  out  of  the  way,  and  then  we  we:it 
aliout  half  a  mile,  when  we  made  a  tire,  set  our  compass,  fixed  our 
course,  and  travelled  all  night.  In  the  morning  we  were  at  the  head 
of  Piny  Creek." 

All  doubt  as  to  French  claims  and  intentions  were  removed  by  Wa^'t- 
ington's  important  visit.  In  order  to  arouse  the  colonies  and  England, 
Governor  Dinwiddie  had  the  Major's  journal  published  far  and  wide, 
and  reprinted  in  England,  which  led  to  very  important  and  immediate 
fiction,  since  it  was  the  first  positive  intelligence  of  the  views  and  designs 
of  the  French.  Instant  steps  were  taken  by  Dinwiddie  to  send  ti 
to  the  Ohio  forks,  which  were  at  that  time  supposed  by  him  to  belong 
to  his  province.  One  company,  under  command  of  Captain  Trent,  wa* 
soon  ready,  and  early  in  April  Ensign  Ward  reached  the  forks,  and 
commenced  work  on"  a  rude  fortification.  They  had  made  but  little 
progress,  however,  before  a  French-Indian  force  of  a  thousand  men, 
with  eighteen  cannon,  suddenly  made  their  appearance  on  the  Alle 
gheny,  in  sixty  batteaux  and  three  hundred  canoes,  and  an  immediate 
summons  to  surrender  their  works  was  made  on  Ward  by  Contrecoeur. 
ramacharison,  the  Half-King,  who  was  present  with  Ward,  in  order 
to  gain  time,  shrewdly  urged  him  to  reply  that  he  had  no  authority  to 
surrender  but  would  send  for  orders.  To  this,  of  course,  the  French 
leader  would  not  listen,  but  gave  just  one  hour  to  retire,  which  poor 
Ward  was  compelled  to  do.  The  French  then  landed  and  built  there  * 
fort,  first  giving  it  the  name  of  "The  Assumption  of  the  Holy  Virgin," 
iui  'iag  it  *«  Fort  Duquetue,  iu  honor  of  the  ilarquu  Dn- 


476  OLD   FORT   DUQrESNE. 

quesne,  the  then  French  Governor  of  Canada :  and  this  little  affair  hM 
always  been  considered  as  the  commencement  of  that  long  and  memo 
rable  "seven  years'  war,"  only  terminated  bj  the  irenty  of  Paris,  and 
by  which  France  ceded  to  England  all  Canada,  and  the  whole  terri 
tory  east  of  the  Mississippi  except  the  isle  of  Orleans. 

E. 

CAPTAIN  JACK,  THE  "  WILD  HUNTER  OF  THE  JUNIATA." 

Captain  Jack,  of  the  French-Indian  war,  \vas  a  real,  historic  person 
age,  and  the  novel  of  "  Old  Fort  Duquesne  "  was  all  composed  and  in 
print  before  its  writer  ever  heard  of  his  Modoc  namesake.  Although 
there  is  much  of  legend  and  mystery  connected  about  the  Juniata-val- 
ley  Jack,  this  much  is  certain,  that  there  was  a  notable  hunter  and 
"  Indian-killer,"  known  all  along  the  Pennsylvania  border,  from  the 
upper  Susquehanna  down  to  the  Potomac  by  that  name.  In  Hazard's 
Register  there  is  frequent  mention  of  him.  Colonel  Armstrong  calla 
him — on  account  of  his  swarthy  visasje— "  The  Half-Indian  "  in  his  re 
ports  of  his  expedition  against  Captain  Jacobs  of  the  Delaware  village 
of  Kittanning. 

Colonel  George  Croghan,  who,  while  Braddock  was  preparing  for 
his  march,  was  engaged  in  beating  up  a  number  of  Indians,  scouts,  etc., 
to  serve  as  guides,  distinctly  states  mat  Captain  Jack  was  at  the  head 
of  a  body  of  bold  hunter-rangers,  skilled  in  woodcraft,  expert  in  Indian 
fighting,  clad,  like  their  leader,  in  Indian  attire,  and  offered  them  to 
Braddock,  provided  they  were  allowed  to  dress,  march  and  fight  as 
they  pleased,  and  not  to  be  subject  to  the  strict  regulations  of  a  soldier'? 
camp.  "  They  are  well  armed,"  said  Croghan,  "  and  are  equally  re 
gardless  of  heat  or  cold.  They  require  no  shelter  for  the  night,  and  asA 
tio  pay  t"  This,  of  course,  could  not  be  permitted  by  sucii  a  strict  and 
self-reliant  martinet  as  Braddock,  and  the  Rangers  were  suffered  to  de 
part.  It  is  idle  now  to  speculate  what  might  have  been  the  result  of 
the  British  Expedition  had  these  scouts,  and  a  larger  body  of  fighting 
Indians  been  allowed  to  accompany,  or  rather  precede  Braddock's  army. 
Judging,  however,  from  the  late  in  valuable  st'rvire*  of  the  War.nSpri  i ; 
Indians  in  tracking  the  Modocs  to  their  lairs,  beating  up  their  fast 
nesses  in  the  lava-beds,  and  bringing  them  to  bay  in  snch  manner  that 
nothing  was  left  but  surrender,  it  is  certainly  safe  to  assume  that  these 
Pennsylvania  Rangers  and  Indians  would  have  performed  the  same 
offices  for  Braddock,  and  rendered  wholly  impossible  the  disastrous 
defeat  which  we  have  taken  such  pains  to  describe. 

Captain  Jack's  early  history  is  shrouded  in  mystery,  but  it  is  the 
•  current  tradition  in  middle  Pennsylvania,  that  he  was  a  frontier  set 
tler,  and  that  returning  one  evening  from  a  long  day's  chase,  he  found 
his  cabin  a  heap  of  smouldering  ruins,  and  the  blackened  corpses  of 
his  murdered  family  scattered  around.  From  that  time  he  became  a 
rancorous  Indian  hater  and  slayer.  In  '53  he  held  a  sort  of  roving 
commission  from  Governor  Hamilton — his  home  being  in  the  Juniata 
valley — going  under  the  names  of  "  The  Black  Rifle,"  "  The  Black 
Hunter,"  and  "  The  Wild  Hunter  of  the  Juniata."  It  is  thought  by 
some  that  "  Jack's  Mountain,"  in  Pennsylvania,  was  called  after  him  ; 
*Mit  this,  ve  think,  is  a  mistake ;  it,  as  well  as  "  Jack's  Narrows,"  hav- 
_l?  taken  their  names  from  the  fact— which  caused  a  great  deal  of  ex- 
%iemeut  \t  the  time — of  the  atrocious  murder,  iu  1744,  of  a 


APPENDIX.  477 

Indian  trader  named  John  Armstrong,  together  with  his  two  servants, 
Buiith  and  Woodward,  by  a  Delaware  Chief  called  Musenieelin. 

In  Jones'  "  Juniata  Valley, "  we  find  a  lengthy  account  of  Captain 
Jack.  He  makes  him  a  hunter  living  on  the  Juniata,  near  a  beautiful 
Bpriug;  having  a  mystery  about  him  which  no  one  ever  succeeded  in 
fathom  ing.  He  is  described  by  Jones  as  a  man  of  Herculean  propor 
tions,  with  an  extremely  swarthy  complexion,  and  a  relentless  Indian 
tracker  and  killer.  The  settlers  about  Aughwick  (now  Shirleysburg, 
Huntingdon  county,  Pa.),  as  well  as  those  in  Path  Valley  and  along 


mes,  "  Captain  Jack  had  concealed  himself  in  the  woods  by  the  side 
of  the  '  Aughwick  Path,'  where  he  lay  in  wait  ii>r  a  stray  Indian. 
Presently  a  painted  warrior,  with  a  red  feather  waving  from  his  head, 
and  his  body  bedizened  with  gew-gaws  recently  purchased  from  a 
trader,  came  down  the  '  path.'  A  crack  from  Captain  Jack's  rifle,  and 
the  savage  bounded  int".  the  air  and  fell  dead  without  a  groan.  It  ap 
pears  that  three  others  were  in  company — but  had  tarried  at  a  spring 
— who,  on  hearing  the  discharge  of  therih>,  under  the  impression  that 
their  companion  had  shot  a  bear,  gave  a  loud  '  whoop.'  Captain-Jack 
immediately  loaded,  and  when  the  Indians  came  up  to  the  dead  body. 
Jack  again  shot,  and  killed  a  second  one.  The  Indians  then  rnsheu 
into  the  thicket,  and  one  of  them  getting  a  glimpse  of  Jack,  shot  at 
him,  but  missed.  The  '  Wild  Hunter,'  seeing  that  the  chances  wen; 
desperate,  jumped  out  and  engaged  in  a  hand-to-hand  encounter — thw 
fourth  savage  being  only  armed  with  a  tomahawk.  He  soon  despatched 
the  third  one  by  beating  his  brains  out  with  a  rifle;  but  the  fourth  one, 
uu  athletic  fellow,  grappled,  and  a  l*ng  and  bloody  fight  with  knives 
followed,  and  only  ceased  when  both  were  exhausted  by  loss  of  blood. 
The  Indian  managed  to  get  away,  and  left  the'  Black  Hunter'  the  victor 
of  the  Geld.  Weak  and  faint  as  Jack  was,  lie  scalped  the  three  savages, 
and  managed  to  work  his  way  to  the  settlement,  where  his  wounds — 
consisting  of  eight  or  ten  stabs — were  dressed." 

"  It  is  said,"  continues  Jones,  "  that  one  night  the  family  of  ail  Irish 
man  named  Moore,  residing  in  Aughwick,  was  suddenly  awakened  by 
the  report  of  a  gun.  On  opening  the  door,  they  found  a  dead  Indian 
Iving  upon  the  very  threshold.  By  the  feeble  light  which  shone 
through  the  door,  they  discovered  the  dim  outline  of  the  '  Wild  Hun 
ter,'  who  merely  said :  '  I  have  saved  your  lives,'  and  then  plunged 
into  the  dark  ravine  and  disappeared.  With  an  eye  like  the  eagle,  an 
aim  that  was  unerring,  daring  intrepidity,  and  a  constitution  that  could 
brave  the  heat  of  summer  as  well  as  the  frosts  of  winter,  he  roamed 
the  valley  like  an  uncaged  tig^r,  the  most  formidable  foe  that  ever 
crossed  the  redman's  path.  Of  the  final  end  of  Captain  Jack,"  con 
cludes  Jones,  "we  have  nothing  definite.  One  account  says  he  went 
W(.st,  another  that  he  died  in  1772.  It  is  said  that  his  bones  rest  near 
the  spring  at  the  base  of  the  mountain  bearing  his  name,  and  this  we 
are  inclined  to  credit.  The  early  settlers  of  the  neighborhood  believed 
that  Captain  Jack  came  down  from  the  mountain  every  night  at  twelve 
o'clock  to  slake  his  thirst  at  his  favorite  spring;  and  half  a  century 
ago  we  might  readily  have  produced  the  affidavits  of  twenty  respectable 
men  who  had  seen  the  '  Black  Hunter'  in  the  spirit,  roaming  over  the 
land  that  was  his  in  the  flesh.  The  towering  mountain,  a  hundred 
miles  in  length,  bes.ring  his  name,  will  staud  as  an  iudcutructiMc 
monument  to  his  memory." 


478  OLD   FORT    DUQUESNE. 

Thus  far  Jones.  It  is  no*  singular  we  should  seize  on  such  excellent 
material  for  romance,  and  make  of  Jack,  -who  lived  in  so  many  a  fire 
side  legend,  a  leading  character  in  our  fiction  ;  and  in  venturing  to  un« 
ravel  fur  our  readers  the  mystery  of  his  early  life,  and  to  give  a  reason 
f6r  his  hatred  to  Indians,  we  only  take  the  privilege  universally  al 
lowed  to  all  writers  of  romance. 

F. 

SCAROOYADDY,  THE  HALF-KING. 

In  the  Colonial  Records  and  Archives  of  Pennsylvania,  from  the  yeaj 
'63,  and  during  the  whole  French-Indian  war  which  followed,  the 
name  of  no  Indian  Sachem  has  more  frequent  or  honorable  mention  than 
Brarooyaddr.  or  Monecatootha,  or  Skirooniatta;  for  by  all  these  names 
was  he  callM.  He  was  an  Oneida  Sachem,  belonging,  of  course,  to  the 
Iroquois  or  Six  Nations,  and  lived  at  a  time  when  the  native  red  men 
of  this  continent  appeared  at  their  best ;  were  considered  the  lords  of  the 
soil ;  were  brave,  proud,  dignified,  and  faithful  to  their  simple  habits 
and  traditions.  By  degrees,  and  after  many  bloody  battles,  the  Indiana 
were  conquered,  pushed  back  from  place  to  place,  debauched  and  con 
taminated  by  the  society  of  traders  and  unprincipled  borderers,  and 
finally  degraded  into  a  state  of  vassalage  ;  abused  and  maltreated  ;  all 
their  pride  and  dignity  gone,  and  degenerated  into  such  jtoor  creatures 
as  we  now  find  on  the  western  plains  and  in  the  neighborhood  of  the 
settlements. 

We  first  hear  of  Monecatootha  as  the  companion  of  Washington  on 
his  visit  to  the  French  forts  on  the  upper  Allegheny.  The  noble  old 
Tannacbarwon  was  then  the  Half-King,  which  means  that  he  repre 
sented  the  Six  Nations  among  the  western  tribes  who  were  subject  to 
them.  A  letter  from  John  Harris,  dated  October,  'o-l,  gives  an  account 
of  the  death  of  Tannaoharison  at  Harris'  Ferry  (now  Harrisburg).  Sent 
by  his  people  to  Onondago,  the  council  place  of  the  Six  Nations,  to  as 
certain  their  views  on  the  expected  troubles  with  the  French,  Scaroo- 
vaddy  was  there  selected  to  succeed  as  Half-King.  He  was  pub 
licly  thanked,  and  his  services  all  through  the  Braddock  campaign 
were  fully  acknowledged  in  Pennsylvania.  "  You  fought  under  Gen 
eral  Braddock,"  said  Governor  Morris,  "  and  behaved  with  spirit  and 
valor  during  the  engagement.  We  see  you  consider  yourselves  as  our 
flesh  and  blood,  and  fight  for  us  as  if  we  were  of  your  own  kindred." 
He  was  always  not  only  loyal  to  the  British,  but  ever  active  in  their 
interests;  advising  them  how  and  whe'n  to  attack  the  French  ;  sternly 
rebuking  the  Pennsylvania  Assembly  for  their  lethargy  and  inactivity, 
and  not  hesitating  to  express  his  contempt  for  what  he  deemed  their 
untimely  cowardice  in  allowing  their  back  settlements  to  be  so  scourged, 
and  they  doing  nothing  to  protect  them.  For  instance,  in  a  public  and 
uanly  speech  made  before  the  Pennsylvania  Assembly  and  a  large 
concourse  of  citizens  in  Philadelphia,  we  find  him  using  such  expres 
sions  as  these : 

"  We  are  amazed  to  find  you  still  sitting  with  your  hands  between 
your  knees,  and  for  an  apology  for  s»  unbecoming  a  posture,  you  tell 
us,"  etc.  And  again:  Awake!  Shake  off  your  lethargy!  Stana 
up  with  your  hatchet  ill  your  hand,  and  use  it  manfully  !  Show  you? 
enemas  you  are  men  !  Yoiir  people  are  foolish.  They  are  extremely 
heavy,  move  slow,  and  are  liable  to  surprises,"  etc.,  etc. 

In  '65  Scarooyaddy  headed  a  war  party  from  Shamokin  against  tla 


APPENDIX.  471 

French,  and  made  repeated  visits  of  importance  to  the  Six  Nations,  aa 
well  as  to  the  western  tribes.  In  the  "  Gentleman's  Magazine  "of 
September,  "56,  is  a  fac-simile  of  his  memoirs,  by  which  it  appears  h« 
had  fought  in  thirtv-one  combats,  had  slain  many,  and  taken  numer 
ous  prisoners  with  his  own  hands.  On  his  breast  was  tattooed  the  figure 
of  a  tomahawk,  and  on  each  cheek  that  of  a  how  and  arrow.  We  have 
narrated  how  unluckily  his  son  was  killed  during  Braddock's  march, 
for  which  fatality,  and  in  order  somewhat  to  appease  and  gratify  him, 
one  of  the  night  encampments  was  called  "  Monecatootha.  lie  had  a 
large  family  of  children,  and  was,  take  him  altogether,  a  brave,  noble 
old  Chief  of  "  the  olden  time." 

G. 

THE  ONLY  SCOUT  EVER  SENT  OUT  BY  BRADDOCK. 

Robert  Orme,  Braddock's  aide-de-camp  and  Washington's  friend,  was 
a  lieutenant  in  the  "  Cold  Streams,"  and  was  an  honest  ami  capable 
man,  making  a  most  favorable  impression  on  all  colonial  dignitaries 
with  whom  he  was  thrown  in  contact.  He  was  wounded  at  Braddock's 
Field,  returned  to  England  and  went  into  private  life,  having  married 
Lady  Townsend,  and  this,  much  to  the  displeasure  of  her  family,  who  bad 
destined  her  for  Lord  George  Lenox.  Orme  kept  a  very  careful  diary, 
and  it  is  to  it  that  history  is  indebted  for  much  in  format  inn  of  Brad- 
dock's  expedition.  Under  date  of  July  4th,  only  four  days  before  the 
battle,  he  jots  down  : 

"  We  marched  about  six  miles  to  Thicketty  Run.  From  this  place 
two  of  our  Indians  were  prevailed  upon  to  go  for  intelligence  towards 
the  French  fort,  and  also  (unknown  to  them)  Gist,  the  General's  guide. 
The  Indians  returned  on  the  Oth,  and  brought  in  a  French  officer's 
scalp,  who  was  shooting  within  half  a  mile  of  the  fort.  They  informed 
the  General  that  they  saw  very  few  men  there  or  tracks  ;  many  addi 
tional  works;  that  no  pass  was  possessed  between  us  and  the  fort,  and 
that  they  saw  some  boats  under  the  fort,  and  one  with  a  white  Hag 
coining  down  the  Ohio"  (Allegheny?).  "  Gist  returned  a  little  after, 
the  same  day,  whose  account  corresponded  with  theirs,  except  he  saw 
smoke  in  a  valley.  He  had  concealed  himself  with  intent  of  getting 
close  under  the  fort,  but  was  discovered  and  pursued  by  two  Indians, 
who  had  very  near  taken  him." 

II. 

THE  LENNI-LENAPE,  OR  DELAWARE  INDIANS. 

A  great  interest  has  always  been  felt  in  this  gallant  little  tribe  of 
Indians,  parti"  because  of  their  peculiar  history,  and  partly  because 
Cooper  has  so  dwelt  upon  their  varied  fortunes,  their  trials  and  strug 
gles,  selecting  from  them  the  heroes  of  his  fascinating  romances.  They 
were  formerly  called  Woapanachki,  which  means  people  from  the  K<itt, 
They  themselves  have  ever  proudly  claimed  to  be  the  Lcnni-Lemtpe,  or 
"  original  people;  "  and  when  the  whites  first  came  to  this  country. 
these  Indians,  divided  into  three  tribes — Miamics,  Mun/.ies  and  L'na 
lacticos — lived  between  the  Hudson  and  Susijuehanna  rivers,  on  both 
sides  the  river  Delaware. 

The  Confederacy,  or  League  known  as  the  Five;  and  afterwards— 
^eu  the  luicarorus  were  Uikeu  ij\ — us  the  Sii  Nations,  is  ivcll  kiiowr 


480  OLD   FORT   DCQUESNE. 

aa  the  most  wonderful  and  the  most  powerful  combiiation  of  Indian 
tribes  ever  known  on  this  continent.  Called  Iroquois  by  tie  French, 
Magua  by  the  Dutch,  Mingoes  by  the  .English,  and  Mengwe  by  the 
other  Indian  nations,  they  became  the  Romans  of  America,  and  went 
on  from  conquest  to  conquest  until  all  the  Indians  between  their  set 
dements  about  the  lakes  of  Central  New  York  and  the  far  Mississippi 
became  subject  to  them.  They  found  strength  in  union;  and  being 
governed  by  old  and  wise  Sachems,  and  having  been  trained  to  war 
and  all  the  warlike  virtues,  they  brought  into  the  field  such  a  number 
of  brave,  skilled  and  adventurous  warriors,  that  nothing  could  stand 
before  them. 

To  manage  their  common  concerns,  they  had  a  council  somewhat 
like  the  old  Wittenagemot  of  the  Saxons,  composed  of  the  very  wisest 
Sachems  of  the  six  different  tribes,  who  met  annually  at  Onondago. 
Of  these  Six  Nations — the  Mohawks,  Oneidas,  Onondagos,  Cayugas, 
Tuscaroras  and  Seriecas — the  latter  were  the  most  westernly  located, 
living  about  the  headwaters  of  the  Allegheny  river,  where  their  de 
scendants  engage  in  rafting  to  the  present  day.  To  this  nation  belonged 
the  Half-King,  Tannacharison,  GuyasuthaandCornplanter.  The  Dela- 
wares  used  to  be  the  inveterate  foes  of  the  Iroquois,  but  were  finally 
conquered  by  them  about  1617,  and  as  the  IroaaoU boasted,  were  forced 
to  put  on  petticoats— that  is,  were  degraded  from  the  rank  of  braces 
to  that  of  women.  The  Delawares  admit  the  fact,  but  assert  that  the 
Iroquois  acted  treacherously,  and  used  a  crafty  artifice  by  persuading 
them  to  act  as  mediators  during  some  of  their  wars.  Now,  the  peaee- 
nwdiators  among  Indians  were  always  women,  and  hence  the  appella 
tion  they  received  from  their  conquerors.  The  Iroquois  treated  them 
with  great  harshness  and  haughtiness,  and  compelled  them  to  make  move 
after  move,  finally  forcing  them  back  to  the  country  around  the  head 
waters  of  the  Ohio  river,  where  our  story  finds  them  calling  themselves 
men  again  ;  very  resentful  against  their  insulting  masters,  the  Six  Na 
tions,  and  anxious  to  throw  off  their  yoke.  They  and  the  Shawnees 
generally  lived  in  harmony,  and  acted  as  allies  in  the  many  struggles 
which  ensued  before  Ohio  became  thoroughly  under  the  possession  of 
the  whites. 

I. 

AN  ACCOUNT  OF  "  THE  OHIO  COMPANY." 

The  pioneer  explorations  made  in  the  West  by  the  F.nglish  were 
conducted  under  the  auspices  of  what  was  called  The  Ohio  Company, 
an  association  of  twelve  gentlemen,  formed  in  1748  by  Thomas  Lee,  of 
Virginia,  and  a  London  merchant  by  the  name  of  Ilanbury,  and  of 
which  Laurence  and  Augustus,  older  brothers  of  George  Washington, 
were  active  members.  The  object  of  the  Company  was  to  carry  on  the 
Indian  trade  on  a  large  scale,  and  settle  the  lands  west  of  the  Allegheny 
Mountains. 

To  this  end  an  immense  grant  of  h.nlf  a  million  of  acres  was  obtained 
from  the  Crown,  one  of  the  conditions  of  which  was  that  two  hundred 
thousand  acres  should  be  located  immediately,  and  one  hundred  fami 
lies  seated  thereon  within  seven  years.  The  whole  tract  was  to  be 
located  south  of  the  Ohio,  and  between  the  Monongahela  and  the 
Kenhawa  rivers.  Two  cargoes  of  Indian  goods  were  at  once  sent  over, 
and  Captain  Gist  engaged  to  make  thorough  exploration*  of  the  West; 
uauiiuw  the  quality  of  die  land.-,;  draw  a  map  of  the  country;  iuak« 


APPENDIX.  481 

friendly  visits  to  the  Indians  in  peaceful  possession  of  he  territory 
desired,  and  report  to  the  board.  Gist  was  absent  on  his  first  tour  nearly 
seven  months,  penetrating  the  wilderness  for  several  hundred  miles 
north  of  the  Ohio,  and  proceeding  as  far  as  the  falls  of  that  river,  where 
Louisville  now  stands.  In  November,  1751,  he  passed  down  the  south 
side  of  the  river  down  to  the  Big  Kenhawa,  and  spent  the  winter  in 
studying  the  ground.  He  reported  that  it  would  be  vain  to  do  much 
tw.-fore  winning  over  the  consent  of  the  Indians,  and  gaining  their  friend 
ship,  which  he  did  the  next  year,  at  a  grand  conference  neld  at  Logs- 
town,  a  few  miles  below  Pittsburgh.  Mr.  Lee,  the  projector  of  the 
Company,  dying,  the  chief  management  devolved  on  Laurence  Wash 
ington,  who  had  a  project  of  settling  a  German  colony  on  the  lands. 
Mr.  Gist  was  instructed  to  lay  off  a  town  and  fort  at  MeKee's  Rocks, 
near  the  mouth  of  Chartiers  Creek,  about  three  miles  below  the  forks 
of  tiie  Ohio,  and  described  in  our  story  as  the  residence  of  Kintj  Shin- 
giss,  of  the  Delawares.  In  4he  meantime,  the  adventurous  Gist  had 
fixed  his  residence  on  this  side  of  the  mountain,  near  where  Unioutown 
now  stands,  and  induced  eleven  families  to  settle  around  him. 

.Matters  were  in  this  state  when  the  border  troubles  broke  out  be 
tween  the  French,  English  and  Indians.  The  design  of  constructing 
the  fort  at  Chartiers  was,  it  seems,  afterwards  abandoned,  and  the  fort 
which,  but  just  commenced,  was  forced  to  surrender  to  Contrecrenr  in 
Mie  spring  of  1754,  and  which  soon  grew  into  Fort  Duquesue,  was  be- 
ing  erected  for  this  same  Ohio  Company. 

Nothing  more  was  now  done  by  the  Company  until  1760,  after  Dn- 
•juesnc  was  captured  by  General  Forbes,  when  Colonel  Mercer  went  to 
London  to  procure  permission  from  the  Crown  to  take  up  the  grant,  or 
to  obtain  a  reimbursement  in  money.  But  times  had  changed  ;  con 
flicting  interests  were  at  work.  General  attention  had  been  turned  in 
that  direction,  and  finally,  after  a  six  years'  stay  in  London,  Mercer 
was  obliged  to  merge  the  interests  of  his  Company  in  those  of  Walpole's. 
or  The  Grand  Onnjxi'ny,  as  it  was  called.  These  terms  were  not  agreed 
to  by  the  American  members  of  the  Company,  and  the  matter  was  in 
agitation  down  so  far  as  the  Revolutionary  war,  which  ended  not  only 
Sie  Company,  but  also  all  British  claims  in  this  section. 

J. 

A  FEW  WORDS  ABOUT  INDIAN  TRAILS. 

The  Indians  were  great  and  very  rapid  travellers,  often  going  hun- 
Ireds  of  miles  on  their  hunting  expeditions,  or  in  pursuit  of  their  foes. 
Although  they  threaded  the  vast  solitudes  of  the  wilderness  with  un 
erring  sagacity,  pursuing  their  way  by  day  or  night  with  marvellous 
precision,  and  by  means  of  certain  infallible  signs  well  known  to  them, 
it  is  a  great  mistake  to  suppose  that  they  roamed  at  random.  They 
Lad  their  beaten  trails,  great  and  little,  as  well  known  to  them  as  our 
£tate  and  County  roads  are  to  us,  and  frequently  far  more  direct.  Tho 
•white  traders,  and  even  military  leaders  often  adopted  them  as  being 
jot  only  the  best  but  also  the  shortest  routes  between  given  points. 
These  are  now  almost  wholly  effaced  or  forgotten,  but  in  some  locali 
ties  they  can  yet  be  very  distinctly  traced. 

We  make  mention  in'the  story  of  the  great  Indian  trail  from  Kittan- 
ning,  on  the  Allegheny  river,  to  Philadelphia,  called  the  "  Kittanning 
1'aih,"  and  which  formed  the  great  highway  between  East  and  West, 
trsl  for  the  Indians,  and  afterwards  for  white  pioneers,  settlers,  aiul 

31 


482  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 

traders  with  their  pack-horses.  This  path,  distinct  traces  of  which 
pan  yet  be  plainly  seen  in  various  places,  was  a  famous  road  in  its  day. 
Commencing  at  Kittanning,  it  crossed  the  Allegheny  Mountains  in  a 
southeastern  direction,  the  descent  on  the  eastern  slope  being  through 
a  gorge  at  what  is  now  known  as  Kittanning  Point,  a  few  miles  west 
of  Hullidaysburg.  Thence  it  went  through  what  are  now  called  Scotch, 
Canoe,  Hartstog  and  Woodcock  valleys,  crossing  the  Broadtop  Moun 
tain  into  Aughwick  ;  thence  into  Tuscarora  and  Sherman's  valleys  to 
the  Susquehanna. 

At  Kittanning  Point,  the  indentation  made  by  the  feet  of  thousands 
upon  thousands  of  warriors,  traders  and  pack-horses  which  travelled 
it  for  an  unknown  number  of  years,  are  still  plainly  visible.  In  some 
places,  where  the  ground  is  marshy,  close  to  the  run,  the  path  is  at 
least  a  foot  deej),  and  the  very  stones  along  the  road  bear  the  marks  of 
the  traders'  iron-shod  horses,  while  occasionally  you  can  pick  up  gun- 
flints  or  arrow-heads.  • 

Another  great  east-and-west  route  went  from  Smoky  Island,  across 
from  Fort  Duquesne,  along  the  margin  of  the  Ohio  river,  to  Fort  Me- 
Intosh,  where  Beaver,  Pa.,  now  stands,  and  extending  westward  to 
Sanduskv  and  Detroit.  Following  the  highest  ground,  it  passed  by 
Salt  Springs,  Trumbull  county.  It  also  ran  through  Palmyra,  Port 
age  county,  near  which  there  are  even  to  this  late  day  several  large  piles 
of  stone,  under  which  skeletons  were  found.  The  trees  have  also  been 
found  painted  along  this  as  well  as  other  beaten  Indian  trails.  In  some 
places  the  bark  has  been  carefully  shaved  off  two-thirds  the  way  round, 
and  figures  cut  in.  This  trail  is  yet  a  plain  beaten  path  west  of  the 
Beaver  river,  near  the  Mahoning.  Another  great  trail  led  more  di 
rectly  west  across  Big  Beaver  to  the  Tuscarawas  branch  of  the  Musk- 
fngum. 

What  is  called  "  Nemacolin's  Path  "  was  a  different  great  Indian  trail, 
\rhich  led  east  from  the  "  Forks  of  the  Ohio,"  through  southern  Penn 
sylvania.  At  the  instance  of  the  Ohio  Company,  Nemacolin,  a  well- 
k'nown  Delaware,  who  resided  at  the  mouth  of  Dunlap's  Creek,  Fayi-tte 
county,  "  blazed  "  the  forest  path  from  Wills  Creek  to  the  Ohio,  which 
was  the  original  tracing  of  that  great  highway  now  known  as  the  Na 
tional  or  Cumberland  road.  In  1753  it  was  well-marked  and  cleared 
of  bushes  and  fallen  timber,  so  as  to  make  it  a  good  pack-horse  road. 
"  Gist's  plantation  "  was  located  on  this  road,  which  afterwards  became 
Braddock's  road,  but  as  Judge  Veech  forcibly  contends,  that  was  a 
misnomer  ;  it  should  have  been  called  Washington's  road,  for  he  made 
it  to  Gist's;  from  Gist's  to  Turtle  Creek  it  was  Braddock's. 

Still  another  very  prominent  and  ancient  north-and-south  path  was 
the  old  Catawba  or  Cherokee  trail,  leading  from  the  Carolinas,  Geor 
gia,  Florida,  etc.,  through  Virginia  and  western  Pennsylvania,  on  to 
western  New  York  and  Canada.  The  principal  trail  entered  Fayette 
county  at  the  mouth  of  Grassy  Run ;  a  tributary  trail,  called  the  War 
rior  Brunch,  came  into  it  from  Tennessee,  Kentucky  and  southern 
Ohio.  The  main  Catawba  trail  passed  along  where  now  stand  Union- 
town  and  Connellsville;  thence  across  Westmoreland  county  to  the 
head  of  the  Snsquehanna,  and  into  western  New  York,  where  the  Six 
Nations  lived  and  compelled  the  periodical  attendance  of  the  various 
conquered  tribes. 

Many  other  Indian  trails  have  been  traced,  and  could  be  here  noted, 
but  we  may  say  in  general,  that  between  all  important  sections  or  In 
dian  tribes  and  towns,  great  and  well-beaten  trails  served  as  commuai 


APPENDIX.  4S3 


K. 

LANGLADE,  THE  LEADER  OF  THE  LAKE  INDIANS. 

In  the  third  volume  of  the  "Wisconsin  Historical  Collections"— 
kindly  placed  in  our  hands  by  Judge  Veech,  of  Pittsburgh— we  note  an 
Interesting  account  of  Sieur  Charles  de  Langlade,  as  taken  by  Lyrnan 
C.  Draper,  Esq.,  from  the  lips  of  Captain  Grignon,  a  grandson  of  Cnarles 
de  Langlade.  In  this  account  we  find  two  positive  assertions,  new  to 
us:  First,  that  Charles  de  Langiade  led  the  Lake  Indians  at  Braa- 
dock's  defeat;  and  Second,  that  Pontiac,  the  famous  Ottawa  Chief, 
was  undoubtedly  among  the  number.  This  latter  fact  does  not  seem 
to  have  been  certainly  Known  to  Parkman  himself,  since  in  his  "  His 
tory  of  the  Conspiracy  of  Pontiac "  when  writing  the  biography  of 
the  famous  chief,  he  says  :  "  It  is  said  that  he  commanded  the 
Ottawas  at  the  memorable  defeat  of  Braddoek." 

Charles  was  the  sou  of  Augustiu  de  Langlade — called  the  founder 
of  Wisconsin — his  mother  being  the  sister  of  the  head  Ottawa 
chief,  king  Nis-so-wa-quet.  At  the  breaking  out  of  the  French  war,  he 
was  about  thirty  years  old,  and  a  bold  and  influential  half-breed  Indian 
Chief.  Such  was  his  skill,  high  standing,  and  influence  over  the 
Indians,  that  he  was  appointed  by  the  Governor-General  of  New 
France  to  head  the  partisan  force  of  French  and  Indians  in  the  war 
then  about  to  commence.  He  first  repaired  to  Fort  Duquesne,  and 
was  with  Pontiac  and  king  Nis-so-wa-quet  at  the  great  battle, 
Langlade  demanded  of  Beaujeu  several  times  that  the  attack  should 
be  made  on  Braddock's  army,  just  after  they  had  crossed  the  river,  and 
while  they  were  at  dinner*  but  Beaujeu  for  some  time  refused,  dis 
heartened  at  the  size  and  drill  of  Braddock's  force;  but  finally  the 
order  was  given,  "and  the  English  officers,  who  had  their  little  towels 
pi nned  over  their  breasts,  seized  their  arms  and  took  part  in  the  con 
flict,  and  a  good  many  of  them  were  killed  with  these  napkins  still 
pinned  on  their  coats."  This  statement  is  very  improbable;  not  to 
speak  of  the  absurdity  of  English  officers,  after  months  of  weary 
marching,  eating  their  frugal  meal  with  napkins,  it  is  not  very  likely 
they  would  rush  to  the  battle-field  nearly  half  a  mile  ofl",  with  them 
still  pinned  on.  We  rather  suspect  it  was  the  light  yellow-aud-buff 
facings  on  the  uniforms  which  were  mistaken  for  napkins. 

The  account  goes  on  tosav  that  most  of  the  French  and  Indians  who 
were  killed  were  not  hit  by  the  enemies'  bullets,  but  by  the  tailing 
limbs  cut  from  the  trees  by  the  over-shooting  of  the  English  cannon. 
As  soon  as  the  defeat  was  sure,  Langlade  had  all  the  liquors  found 
among  the  English  stores  poured  upon  the  ground  lest  the  Indians 
should  indulge.  La  Choisie  and  de  Ilocheblave,  two  young  French 
officers  with  Langlade,  quarrelled  over  the  superb  uniform  of  an 
English  officer,  and  the  next  morning  La  Choisie  was  found  assassin 
ated  and  his  purse  missing;  RochebutTC  was  strongly  suspected  of  the 
crime.  After  Braddock's  repulse,  Langlade  was  sent  by  Dumas  to  go 
towards  Cumberland,  and  ascertain  the  English  strength  and  move 
ments,  and  should  the  Indians  take  any  prisoners,  t/>  use  his  beal 
efforts  to  prevent  their  torturing  them. 


4£4  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 


L. 

WONDERFUL  CAREER  OF  COL.  JAMES  SMITH. 

The  lad  James  Smith,  whom  we  have  introduced  as  a  fello>  pri. 
Boner  with  Talbot,  iu  Fort  Duquesne,  was  a  veritable  character  in 
Pennsylvania  history.  He  had  a  most  adventurous  career,  and  the 
diary  published  of  his  five  years'  life  among  the  Indians,  as  the 
adopted  &on  of  Tecanghretanego,  furnishes  the  fullest  and  most  faith 
ful  account  ever  printed  of  the  habits,  customs,  sentiments  and  daily 
forest  Jife  of  the  American  Indian. 

In  May,  1755,  young  Smith,  then  about  eighteen  years  of  age, 
joined  a  force  of  three  hundred  men  sent  out  by  Pennsylvania  to 
cut  a  road  to  fall  into  that  of  Braddock's  at  the  "Turkey-foot"  of 
the  Yough  river.  Although,  as  he  says,  violently  in  love  with  an 
amiable  young  lady,  he  worked  diligeiitlv,  until  one  morning  he  was 
captured  by  a  body  of  Indians,  hurried"  off  to  Fort  Duquesne,  and 
forced  to  run  the  gauntlet  just  outside  the  fort,  much  as  Talbot  is 
described  to  have  done.  He  was  the  only  English  person  in  the  fort, 
and  it  is  to  hiir  the  public  is  indebted  lor  the  only  account  of  the 
Trench-Indian  departure  for  the  battle,  their  return  from  the  bloody 
field  laden  dov  n  with  scalps  and  spoils,  and  the  subsequent  torture  of 
the  prisoners  <m  Smoky  Island. 

A  few  days  ifter,  his  captor  demanded  him,  and  the  adoption  scene 
we  have  given  was  very  much  the  same — the  washing  in  the  river  by 
young  squav  3  included — as  he  himself  went  through.  He  was  then, 
according  to  .he  universal  Indian  custom,  treated  exactly  a*  if  he  had 
been  born  end  bred  one  of  themselves.  Smith  describes  very  fully 
the  daily  habits  of  his  Indians,  their  lives,  dances,  funerals,  arts  of 
war,  and  rjethods  of  gaining  a  livelihood,  some  of  which  are  very 
singular  and  entertaining.  He  had  good  times  and  bad  times, 
Hfcomp?.ir?ing  the  Indians  in  their  bee,  deer,  and  horse  hunt's,  their 
Biigar-.nox.ing,  and  long  chases  after  game,  and  sharing  equally  with 
them  their  privations  and  seasons  of  plenty. 

Smith  says  that  the  French  were  deserted  hy  the  Indians  during 
Forbes'  campaign  against  Duquesne,  because  Forbes  had  very  many 
American  riflemen  with  him,  and  that  they  were  learning  the  art  of 
war;  that  if  it  was  only  redcoats  they  had  to  deal  with,  they  could 
conquer,  hut  they  could  not  withstand  the  Big  Knives,  the  name  they 
gave  the  Virginians.  When  they  heard  of  Grant's  defeat  they  called 
him  crazy,  saying  that  the  art  of  war  consists  in  ambushing  and  sur- 

E  rising  enemies;  that  Grant  did  well  in  artfully  approaching  the  fort 
y  night;  but  when  the  Indians  were  all  asleep  outside  the  fort,  and 
could  easily  have  been  destroyed,  the  whites  had  to  beat  their  drums 
and  play  their  bagpipes,- and  the  only  way  they  could  account  for  such 
folly  was  that  he  and  his  force  were  drunk.  Young  Smith  remained 
with  the  Indians  five  whole  years,  and  when  on  an  expedition  with 
them  to  Montreal  ^here  he  was  detained  a  prisoner  for  months  he 
was  there  exchanged,  reaching  his  home  at  Couococheaque  to  find  him 
self  taken  for  an  Indian  and  his  sweetheart  married  but  a  few  days 
before  his  arrival.  He  did  not  appear,  however,  to  take  this  disap 
pointment  much  to  heart;  but  married  in  1703,  and  on  account  of  hia 
bravery  and  knowledge  of  Indian  fighting,  was  elected  captain  of  a 
ranger  company  dressed  exactly  as  Indians,  and  with  faced. painted 
red  and  black. 


APPENDIX.  485 

_  la  '64,  Smith  was  Lieutenant  with  Col.  Bouquet's  famous  expedi 
tion  against  the  Muskinguru  Indians.  In  '65,  he,  and  his  Indian  Boys, 
tarried  on  war  against  the  Indian  traders  who  were  supplying  the 
red  men  with  ammunition,  etc.,  contrary  to  law ;  and  afterward* 
raised  three  hundred  riflemen,  who  were  engaped  in  various  services. 
In  '06,  he  went  West  to  hunt  lands  on  which  to  Fettle,  and  explored 
great  parts  of  Kentucky  and  Tennessee.  On  his  return  he  was  accom 
panied  by  no  one  but  a  mulatto,  and  received  a  serious  stab  ki  his 
foot,  which  compelled  him  to  make  a  severe  surgical  operation  with 
his  knife,  and  Kept  him  in  the  woods  several  months.  He  had 
now  been  eleven  months  in  the  wilderness,  and  during  this  time 
saw,  as  he  says,  neither  bread,  money,  women,  nor  spirituous  liquors 
and  for  three  months  no  human  being  except  Janm,  the  mulatto. 
His  clothes  were  worn  out,  and  Jamie  had  on  nothing  bu»  skins  of  beasts. 
He  returned  home  in  '67,  and,  the  Indians  again  proving  troublesome, 
took  up  his  old  business  of  fighting  Indian  traders.  Pome  of  his 
companions  were  put  in  irons  at  Fort  Bedford,  and  Smith,  raising 
eighteen  of  his  old  "  black  boys,"  made  a  gallant  attack  on  the  fort, 
and  released  the  prisoners.  "This,  I  believe,"  quaintly  wiites  Smith, 
"  was  the  first  British  fort  in  America  taken  by  American  rebolr." 

He  was  soon  arrested,  put  in  irons  at  Bedford,  and  brought  in  guilty 
of  murder;  taken  to  Carlisle  for  fear  of  arrest,  he  remained  iu  prison 
four  months,  stood  his  trial,  was  acquitted,  and  an  Indian  war  break 
ing  out  again,  was  appointed  Major,  and  at  the  commencement  of  ch« 
revolution,  a  member  of  the  Pennsylvania  Assembly.  Smith,  however, 
soon  pined  for  active  life  again,  and  raising  a  scouting  party,  ho 
marched  into  the  Jerseys  before  Washington's  army,  and  did  excellent 
service.  In  '78,  Smith  became  Colonel,  and  soon  took  four  hundred 
riflemen  on  an  expedition  against  an  Indian  town  on  French  Creek. 

In  1788,  he  settled  in  Bourbon  county,  Kentucky,  and  represented 
that  district  in  the  Assembly  down  to  the  present  century. 

M. 

CUSTOMS  AND  DRESS  OF  THE  PIONEERS. 

The  description  of  Frazier's  house  is  taken  from  Rev.  Dr.  Dodd- 
ridge's  notes  on  our  Western  Settlements,  (now  out  of  print).  Most 
of  the  frontier  cabins  of  those  early  days  were  fashioned  in  a  similar 
rude  style.  The  furniture  consisted  of  a  few  pewter  dishes  and 
spoons;  but  mostly  of  wooden  bowls,  trenchers,  and  noggins;  or  of 
gourds  ai.d  hard-shelled  squashes.  Iron  pots,  knives  and  forks  were 
brought  from  the  East,  along  with  the  salt  and  wire,  on  pack  horses. 
"  Hog  and  hominy"  was  the  chi-:f  food,  jonny  cakes  and  pone  being 
the  only  bread.  At  supper  mush  and  milk  was  the  standard  dish ; 
when  milk  was  scarce,  molasses,  bear's  oil,  or  ham  gravy  was  the 
substitute.  The  "  truck-patch  "  attached  to  every  cabin  supplied  trie 
roasting-ears,  squashes,  pumpkins,  beans  and  potatoes,  which  were 
cooked  with  pork,  venison,  and  bear-meat. 

The  frontier  dress  for  the  men  was  partly  Indian  ;  the  chief  article 
being  the  hunting  shirt,  which  was  a  loose  frock  open  before,  with 
large  sleeves,  reaching  half-way  down  the  thighs,  and  lapping  over 
the  waist  belt  a  foot  or  more.  The  cape  was  large  and  handsomely 
fringed  with  ravelled  cloth.  The  belt  had  suspended  on  one  side  the 
bullet-bag  aiid  tomahawk,  and  on  the  other  the  scalping  kuife  a 


486  OLD   FORT    DUQUESNE. 

ft  leather  sheath.  A  pair  of  drawers  or  breeches  and  fringed 
severed  the  legs,  while  moccasins  of  dressed  deerskin  served  ranch 
better  than  shoes.  They  were  neatly  made  of  a  single  piece,  with  a 
gathering  seam  along  the  top  of  the  foot,  and  another  from  the  bottom 
of  the  heel,  without  gather,  as  high  as  the  ankle  joint.  Flaps  neatly  tied 
to  the  ankles  and  lower  part  of  the  legs  by  thongs  of  doeskin,  so  as  to 
exclude  dirt,  snow,  or  sand,  were  left  on  each  side.  Each  hunter 
made  his  own  moccasins  in  a  few  hours  with  a  moccasin  awl,  which, 
together  with  a  roll  of  buckskin  and  thongs  or  whangs  for  mending, 
was  part  of  the  regular  trappings.  In  cold  weather  the  moccasins 
were  well  stuffed  with  deer's  hair  or  dry  leaves,  but  in  wet  weather 
moccasin  wearing  was  only  a  decent  way  of  going  barefoot  due  to  the 
ipongy  texture  of  the  leather.  Owing  to  this,  Indians  as  well  as  whites, 
were  much  afflicted  with  rheumatism,  and  this  was  the  reason  why,  at 
night,  all  slept  with  their  feet  to  the  fire.  Very  frequently  young  frontier 
men  became  so  much  enamored  of  the  Indian  dress  that  drawers  were 
laid  aside,  and  the  leggings  made  to  come  well  up  on  the  thigh,  and  the 
breech-clout  adopted,  which  last  was  a  piece  of  linen  or  cloth  nearly 
a  yard  long  and  eight  or  nine  inches  broad.  This  passed  under  the 
belt  before  and  behind,  leaving  the  ends  for  flaps  with  ornamented 
ends  hanging  over  the  belt.  'Where  this  belt  passed  over  the  hunting 
shirt,  the  upper  part  of  the  thighs  and  part  of  the  hips  were  naked. 
Doddridge  asserts  that  the  young  hunter  instead  of  being  abashed  by 
this  nudity,  was  proud  of  his  Indian  dress,  frequently  entering  houses 
of  worship  thus  clad.  Their  appearance,  however,  did  not,  according 
to  the  veracious  chronicler,  "add  much  to  the  devotion  of  the 
young  ladies." 

The  linsey  petticoat  and  bed-gown  formed  the  universal  dress  of 
the  women,  with  a  small  home-made  'kerchief  about  the  neck.  They 
went  barefoot  in  warm  weather,  while  in  cold  their  feet  were  covered 
with  moccasins,  or  coarse  shoe-packs.  The  garments  of  both  men  and 
women  were  hung  around  the  cabin  on  wooden  pegs.  The  young 
women  of  these  days  knew  nothing  of  curls,  ruffles,  rings,  jewels,  or 
other  modern  adornments.  Instead  of  the  toilet  they  had  to  handle 
the  distaff  or  shuttle,  the  sickle  or  weeding  hoe.  contented  if  they 
could  obtain  their  linsey  clothing,  and  cover  their  heads  with  a 
sun  bonnet. 

Doddridge  gives  an  interesting  account  of  the  manner  in  vogue  in 
those  rude  times  of  settling  a  young  couple  for  life.  Their  cabin  was 
built  by  neighbors.  First  were  the  choppers,  then  those  who  hauled 
and  sorted  the  logs  on  the  chosen  spot.  The  best  axeman  searched  the 
woods  for  a  straight-grained  tree  from  three  to  four  feet  thick,  for 
making  clapboards  for  the  roof.  These  were  split  four  feet  long,  with 
a  large  iron  and  as  wide  as  the  timber  woulu  allow,  and  were  used 
without  hewing.  Others  still  got  out  puncheons  for  the  floor  by 
splitting  young  trees,  and  hewing  the  faces  with  the  broad  axe.  They 
were  half  the  length  of  the  floor  they  were  intended  to  make.  The 
second  day  was  allotted  for  the  raising.  Four  cornermen  were  first 
selected,  whose  business  was  to  notch  and  place  the  logs.  The  rest 
raised  the  timber  to  their  places.  When  the  cabin  was  raised  a  few 
rounds  high,  the  sleepers  and  floor  began  to  be  laid.  Next,  a  door  was 
made  by  cutting  the  logs  on  one  side  so  as  to  make  an  opening  about 
three  feet  wide  ;  a  wider  opening  was  made  for  the  chimney,  which  was 
built  of  logs  and  made  large  to  admit  a  back  and  jams  of  stone.  The 
roof  was  formed  by  making  the  end  logs  shorter  until  a  single  log 
formed  the  comb  of  the  roof.  On  these  the  clap-boards  were  placed,  thi 


APPENDIX.  487 

ranges  of  them  lapping  some  distance  over  those  next  below,  and  kept 
in  their  places  by  logs  resting  on  them.  A  third  day  was  spent  m 
levelling  off  the  floor,  finishing  up,  making  a  rude  door,  table,  bed 
stead,  and  three-legged  stools.  Then  the  imisons  made  billets  for 
chinking  up  the  cracks  between  the  logs,  which  were  plastered  over 
with  mud  mortar.  The  cabin  being  thus  finished  and  furnished,  the 
bouse  warming  took  up  a  whole  night,  and  consisted  of  a  vigorous 
dunce,  made  up  of  the  groom's  and  bride's  relations,  and  all  the  neigh 
bors.  On  the  following  day  the  young  couple  took  possession  of 
their  new  house. 


N. 

THE  SHAWNEES,  AXD  THEIR  CHIEF,  BLACK  HOOF. 

The  Shawnee  tribe  were  a  very  peculiar  people ;  brave,  restless, 
warlike,  and  adventurous,  who  were  certainly  from  the  South,  some 
say  from  the  Suwauee  river,  Florida.  They  first  appeared  in  Penn 
sylvania,  about  the  year  1700,  at  Montour's  Island,  on  the  Ohio,  six 
miles  below  Pittsburgh.  Part  remained  there,  while  divisions  went 
Eastward,  settling  on  the  Delaware  and  Susquehuana.  In  1728,  they 
finally  migrated  West,  and  located  near  the  Ohio  and  Allegheny.  In 
'32,  they  had  so  grown  in  numbers,  that  half  the  warriors  in  Pennsyl 
vania  belonged  to  that  tribe.  They  had  several  villages  between  Fort 
Duquesne  and  Beaver,  and,  as  at  first  they  considered  themselves 
under  the  protection  of  the  Delawares,  so  they  always  called  them 
grandfathers. 

The  Shawnees  have  had  many  noted  chiefs,  among  the  most  war 
like  and  influential  of  whom  was  Catahecassa,  or  the  Blackhoof  of 
our  tale.  He  died  at  Wapakonetta,  Allen  county,  Ohio,  aged  over  one 
hundred  years,  shortly  before  the  removal  of  the  Shawnees  in  1832  to 
beyond  the  Mississippi.  He  always  asserted  that  he  was  born  in 
Florida,  near  salt  water.  Certain  it  is,  he  was  at  Braddock's  defeat. 
and  engaged  in  all  the  subsequent  Ohio  wars  down  to  the  treaty  of 
Greenville  in  1795.  He  won  the  confidence  of  the  whole  nation  by 
liis  sagacity,  adventurous  spirit,  and  success  in  warfare,  and  never 
lacked  braves  to  follow  him  in  his  manv  warlike  excursions.  He 
was  known  far  and  wide  as  the  great  Shawnee  warrior,  who  was 
bol'i  to  plan,  zealous  to  carry  out,  and  successful  in  his  battles  and 
expeditions. 

Blaekhoof  was  the  inveterate  foe  of  the  whites,  and  would  never 
consent  to  smoke,  treat,  or  make  peace  with  them  unless  they  would 
agree  to  go  back  over  the  mountains.  He  was  the  chief  orator  of  his 
tribe  for  many  years.  Col.  Johnston,  the  famous  Indian  agent,  des 
cribed  him  as"  the  most  graceful  Indian  he  ever  saw,  and  as  having  a 
most  natural  and  happy  facultv  of  expressing  his  ideas.  He  was  well 
versed  in  all  the  traditions  of"  his  people,  and  their  relations  to,  and 
treaties  with  the  whites;  but  although  stern  and  uncompromising, 
arid  the  hero  of  a  hundred  battles,  yet,  when  convinced  that  opposi 
tion  was  unavailing,  he  lived  a  friendly  and  peaceable  life  with  his 
old  foes.  Before  Wayne's  great  victory  over  trie  combined  tribes,  he 
was  hopeful,  but  after  he  saw  further  resistance  was  useless,  resolved 
*«>  make  terms,  signed  the  treaty  of  Greenville,  and  continued  faithful 
to  it  through  life.  He  was  the  principal  chief  of  tLe  Shawuees  when 


488  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 

Tecumseh  and  his  brother  the  prophet  took  up  arms.  They  tried 
long  to  enlist  Blackhoof,  but  he  not  only  steadily  refused  himself, 
but  kept  back  the  greater  portion  of  his  tribe.  In  that  contest  he  was 
the  ally  of  the  United  States,  exerting  a  salutary  influence  over  hia 
people.  In  January,  1813,  while  on  a  visit  to  General  Tupper's  camp, 
at  Fort  McArthur,  some  miscreant  fired  through  a  hole  in  the  wall, 
and  shot  the  old  chief  in  the  face.  The  ball  passed  through  his  cheek 
and  lodged  in  his  neck.  For  some  time  he  was  supposed  dead,  hut 
gradually  recovered.  He  was  opposed  to  burning  prisoneis,  and  to 
polygamy,  living  over  forty  ye^rs  with  one  wife,  and  raising  a  large 
family.  He  was  cheerful  and  agreeable  in  his  deportment,  of  medium 
size,  and  had  good  health  and  unimpaired  eyesight  to  the  last.  The 
famous  Tecumseh,  and  his  father  Puckeshinwa,  mentioned  as  one  of 
the  leaders  of  tht  ball-match  before  Fort  Duquesne,  were  of  the 
Shawnee  tribe. 

0. 

BRADDOCK  BADLY  SWINDLED  IN  HORSES. 

Braddock,  bv-fore  starting  on  his  expedition,  had  been  promised 
twenty-five  hundred  horses,  and  two  hundred  and  fifty  wagons  from 
Maryland  and  Virginia;  but  twenty  wagons  and  two  hundred  horse* 
were  all  that  could  be  procured,  and  these  after  so  long  a  delay  and 
of  such  a  wretched,  miserable  character,  that  the  march  would  nevet 
have  been  made  had  not  Franklin  by  his  famous  proclamation  among 
the  German  farmers  of  Pennsylvania — in  which  he  threatened  that  if 
they  did  not  hurry  forward  horses  and  wagons,  Sir  John  St.  Clai? 
the  Hussar,  would  override  the  province  and  impress  what  he  wanted— 
raised  one  hundred  and  fifty  wagons  and  five  hundred  horses,  arid 
thus  enabled  the  force  to  move.  It  is  well  known  that  Franklin  rau 
greatly  in  debt  in  this  service,  and  that  a  commission  sat  in  Lan 
caster  ten  days  in  '56  to  audit  and  settle  his  claims  against  the  gov 
ernment.  This  was  not  the  only  instance  of  Franklin's  practical 
common-sense  way  of  doing  things.  When  the  army  was  at  Wills 
Creek,  both  officers  and  soldiers  were  nearly  starved — no  butter,  spoiled 
meat,  and  mouldy  bread.  Franklin  visited  the  camp  and  saw  the 
condition  of  affairs,  and  was  the  means  of  having  £5000  expended  by 
Pennsylvania  in  supplying  tea,  coffee,  cheese,  wines,  hams,  tongues, 
and  requisite  accessories  for  the  officers'  needs,  for  which  he  had 
their  repeated  thanks.  Again,  he  organized  a  good  postal  service,  by 
which  the  communications  between  the  army  and  the  different  provinces 
wore  prompt  and  regular.  But  to  return  to  the  horses;  as  Washington 
truly  said,  "  There  was  vile  management  there."  Instead  of  proper 
draught-horses,  all  sorts  of  broken-down  hacks,  and  sprained,  wind- 
trail  ponies  were  shamelessly  palmed  off  on  the  army  by  contractors. 
Besides,  the  very  owners  and  a  lot  of  base  camp-followers  hung  on 
the  skirts  of  the  army  during  the  whole  march,  stealing  every  hor^e 
that  was  left  to  graze  without  a  guard.  Over  three  hundred  wer6 
thr.s  made  away  with.  What  these  scoundrels  left,  were  either  stolen 
by  the  Indians,  or  broken-down  by  hard  usage  and  extra  service; 
•o  that  Dunbar  could  only  move  half  his  wagons  at  a  time.  After 
one  day's  march  the  poor  beasts  were  sent  back  to  bring  up  th« 
remainder,  and  it  was  invariably  two  days  more  ere  the  detachmeul 
wld  start  from  the  spot  of  the  first  night's  encampment. 


APPENDIX.  489 

P. 

THE  TOUCHING  STORY  OF  FANNY  BRADDOCK. 

The  story  of  Braddock's  sister,  Fanny,  which  Goldsmith  relates  at 
ength  in  his  life  of  Beau  Nash,  is  a  sad  and  touching  one.  She  was 
left  a  large  fortune  at  her  sister's  decease,  moved  in  the  very  best 
society,  and  contracted  a  passion  for  elegance.  "  Whatever  the  finest 
poet  could  conceive  of  wit,  or  the  most  celebrated  painter  imagine 
tf  beauty,  were  excelled  in  the  perfections  of  this  young  lady." 
Naturally  gay,  sprightly,  and  generous  to  a  fault,  and  excelling  in 
conversation,  she  left  writings  both  in  prose  and  verse  which  were  ad 
witty  and  brilliant  as  any  in  that  age.  Her  chief  failing  was  impru 
dence  iii  the  use  of  money.  Anxious  to  relieve  distress,  she  was 
lavish  beyond  reason;  at  nineteen  she  was  surrounded  by  lovers, 

among  whom  was  S ,  a  talented  but  unfortunate  man,  whose  love, 

pity,  generosity,  and  even  friendship,  were  all  in  excess.  He  was 
called  "  the  good-natured  man,"  and  became  Mistress  Braddock's 
favorite.  Very  soon  his  debts  becoming  overwhelming,  he  was 
arrested  and  thrown  into  prison,  and  his  lady-love  immediately  took 
the  fatal  resolution  of  releasing  him  by  discharging  all  his  debts.  All 
the  admonitions  of  Nash  and  her  other  friends  were  disregarded. 
Her  fortune  was  by  this  means  exhausted,  and,  with  all  her  attrac 
tions,  she  lost  rank  and  esteem,  and  accepted  Na-sh's  invitation  of  a 
return  to  Bath,  where,  for  a  time,  she  moved  in  the  very  first  circles, 
but  a  settled  melancholy  now  possessed  her,  and  nothing  could 
divert  her. 

Her  beauty,  simplicity,  and  artlessness  finally  made  her  the  victim 
of  a  designing  woman  who  kept  fashionable  gambling  rooms,  and  who 
by  flattery,  loans  of  money,  etc.,  soon  gained  an  entire  ascendency 
over  the  thoughtless  deserted  girl,  and  in  1727,  Miss  Fanny  Braddock, 
without,  as  Goldsmith  says,  "ever  transgressing  the  laws  of  virtue, 
had  entirely  lost  her  reputation.  Whenever  a  person  was  wanting  t.a 
make  up  a  party  for  play  at  dame  Lindsey's,  Sylvia,  as  she  was  then 
familiarly  called,  was  sent  for,  and  was  obliged  to  suffer  all  those 
slights  which  the  rich  but  too  often  let  fall  upon  their  inferiors  in 
point  of  fortune." 

This  charming  girl  struggled  hard  with  adversity,  and  yielded  to 
every  encroachment  of  contempt  with  sullen  reluctance.  Matters 
soon  grew  from  bad  to  worse,  until  her  friend  Nash  indiiced  her  to 
break  off  all  connection  with  dame  Lindsey,  and  to  rent  part  of  a 
house,  where  she  behaved  with  the  utmost  complaisance,  regularity, 
and  virtue;  but  her  detestation  of  life  still  grew  on  her,  and  about 
this  time  she  frequently  dwelt,  and  conversed  much,  on  suicide.  She 
soon  became  so  poor  that,  unable  to  mix  in  company  for  want  of  the 
tlegancios  of  dress,  she  lived  a  lonely  and  deserted  life,  and  accepted 
the  position  of  governess  in  Mr.  Wood's  family. 

While  he  and  part  of  his  household  were  absent  in  London,  «he 
conceived  the  fatal  resolution  of  leaving  a  life  in  which  she  could  see 
no  corner  for  comfort.  Thus  resolved,  she  sat  down  at  the  dining- 
room  window,  and  with  cool  intrepidity  wrote  the  fcllowiug  lint* 
on  one  of  the  panes : — 

O  death  !  thon  pleasing  end  of  human  \voe; 
Tlmu  cure  for  life  I  tlnni  greatest  KOCX!  below; 
Still  niaynt  tlmii  fly  tin-  row.-inl  HIM!  t\if  slave, 
And  thy  soft  bluuibcTB  oulj  blemj  the  brave. 


490  OLD   FORT   DUQUESNE. 

She  then  went  into  company  with  the  most  cheerful  serenity,  and 
ordered  supper  to  be  ready  in  the  little  library,  where  she  spent  the 
hours  before  bedtime,  in  dandling  two  of  Mr.  Wood's  children  on 
her  knees.  From  this  point  we  quote  Goldsmith  : 

"  In  retiring  to  her  chamber,  she  went  into  the  nnrsery  to  take  hf-r 
leave  of  another  child  as  it  lay  sleeping  in  the  cradle.  Struck  with 
the  innocence  of  its  looks,  and  the  consciousness  of  her  meditated 
guilt,  she  could  not  avoid  bursting  into  tears,  and  hugging  it  in  her 
arms.  She  then  bid  her  old  servant  good-night,  and  went  to  bed  as 
n«nal.  She  soon  quitted  it,  however,  and  dressed  herself  in  clean 
linen  and  white  garments  of  every  kind,  like  a  bridesmaid.  Her 
gown  was  pinned  over  her  breast,  just  as  a  nurse  pins  the  swaddling 
clothes  of  an  infant.  A  pink  silk  girdle  was  the  instrument  with 
which  she  resolved  to  terminate  her  misery,  and  this  was  lengthened 
by  another  made  of  gold  thread.  The  end  of  the  former  was  tied 
with  a  noose,  and  the  latter  with  three  knots. 

"  Thus  prepared,  she  sat  down  and  read  :  for  she  left  .the  book  open 
Bt  that  place,  in  the  story  of  Olympia,  in  the  'Orlando  Furioso'  of 
Ariosto,  where,  by  the  pity  and  ingratitude  of  her  bosom  friend,  she 
was  ruined  and  left  to  the  mercy  of  an  unpitying  world.  This  fatal 
event  gave  her  fresh  spirits  to  go  through  her  tragical  purpose.  So. 
standing  upon  a  stool,  and  flinging  the  girdle  which  was  tied  round 
her  neck,  over  a  closet  door  that  opened  into  her  chamber,  she 
remained  suspended.  Her  weight,  however,  broke  the  girdle,  and 
the  poor  despairer  fell  on  the  floor  with  such  violence  that  her  fall 
awakened  a  workman  that  lay  in  the  house,  about  half  after  two. 
Recovering  herself,  she  began  to  walk  about  the  room,  as  her  usual 
custom  was  when  she  wanted  sleep,  and  the  workman  imagining  it 
to  be  only  some  ordinary  accident,  again  went  to  sleep. 

"  She  once  more,  therefore,  had  recourse  to  a  stronger  girdle,  made 
of  silver  thread,  and  this  kept  her  suspended  till  she  died.  Her  old 
maid  waited  as  usual  for  the  ringing  of  the  bell,  hour  after  hour, 
until  two  of  the  afternoon,  when  the  workman  entering  by  the 
window,  found  their  unfortunate  mistress  still  hanging  and  quite 
cold.  The  coroner's  jury  brought  in  a  verdict  of  lunacy,  and  her 
corpse  was  next  night  decently  buried  in  her  father's  grave. 

"Thus  ended,"  concludes  Goldsmith,  "a  female  wit,  a  toast  and  a 
gamester;  loved,  admired,  and  forsaken;  formed  for  the  delight  of 
society,  fallen  by  imprudence  to  be  an  object  of  pity.  Hundreds  in 
hitrh  file  lament'ed  her  fate,  and  bought  up  iier  effects  with  the  greatest 
avidity;  and  she  remains  the  strongest  instance  to  posterity  that 
want  of  prudence  alone  almost  cancels  every  other  virtue." 

When  the  news  of  the  suicide  was  told  to  her  brother,  Edward 
Braddock,  he  is  said  to  have  uttered  this  cruel  and  unfeeling  play  upon 
words  :  "  Poor  Fanny,  I  alwavs  thought  she  would  play  till  she  would 
be  forced  to  'tie  herself  tip.'  ''  To  "  tie  oneself  up  from  play  "  was  a 
eant  phrase  of  the  day  for  incurring  some  obligation,  which  should 
act  as  a  restraint  upon  gambling. 

Q. 


WASHINGTON'S   OPINION   OF   BRADDOCK. 

s 
written 


Nile's  Register  for  May,  1818,  contains  a  deeply  interesting  account, 
written  out  for  the  Editor,  by  the  venerable  William  Findley, 
Youngstowu,  Pa.,  of  a  conversation  held  with  President  Washington, 


APPENDIX.  491 

•onceming  Braddock  i  defeat.  He  said  that  Braddock  was  uufor- 
tunate,  but  his  character  was  very  much  too  severely  treated;  that  lie 
was  one  of  the  best  and  honestest  of  any  British  ofiieeis  with  whom  he 
Lad  been  acquainted.  Even  in  the  manner  of  fighting  l.e  was  not 
more  to  blame  than  others;  that  of  all  that  were  consulted,  only  one 
person  (probably  himself),  objected  to  it.  "  Braddock  was  both  my 
general  and  my  physician.  I  was  attacked  with  a  dangerous  fever  on 
the  march,  and  he  left  a  sergeant  to  take  care  of  me,  and  gave  me 
lever  powders,  with  directions  how  to  use  them,  and  a  wagon  to  bring 
me  on  when  I  would  be  able,  which  was  only  the  day  before  the 
defeat,  the  first  day  I  had  ridden  a  horse  for  a  considerable  time, 
and  then  had  to  ride  with  a  pillow  under  me."  The  President  stated, 
also,  that  when  once  out,  during  Forbes'  campaign  in  '58,  he  ran  the 
greatest  hazard  of  his  life ;  that  he  had  been  ordered  to  reinforce  a 
bullock  guard  on  their  way  to  camp,  and  marched  his  party  single 
file,  with  trailed  arms,  sending  a  runner  to  inform  the  Britisn  officer 
in  what  manner  he  could  meet  him.  The  officer  some  how  misunder 
stood  him,  and  the  parties  met  in  the  dark,  and  fired  on  each  other, 
till  they  killed  thirty  of  their  own  men  ;  nor  could  they  be  stopped 
till  he  had  to  go  in  between  their  fires,  and  throw  up  the  muzzles  of 
their  guns  with  his  sword. 

R. 

BRITISH  AND  AMERICAN  OFFICERS  ENGAGED. 

Many  of  the  officers — both  British  and  American — beside  those 
mentioned,  rose  to  prominence  in  after  times.  It  is  generally  stated 
that  Hugh  Mercer,  the  hero  of  Trenton,  was  present,  but  this  is  a  mis 
take.  The  first  mention  we  have  of  this  sturdy  Scotchman,  is  in 
Armstrong's  expedition  against  Kitanning  in  '56.  There  was  a  George 
and  a  John  Mercer,  both  of  whom  were  at  Fort  Necessity,  with 
AVashington,  but  no  Hugh  Mercer  with  Braddock.  Dr.  Hugh 
Mercer  was  left  by  General  Forbes  in  command  of  the  handful  of 
troops  placed  in  charge  of  the  ruins  of  Fort  Duquesne  in  '58,  and 
subsequently  took  prominent  part  in  our  revolution.  Captain  Adam 
Stephen,  of  the  Virginia  Rangers,  rose  to  be  Colonel  of  Virginia 
troops,  and  was  a  general  officer  of  the  revolution.  General  Horatio 
Gates,  who  figured  so  conspicuously  in  our  revolution,  and  whose 
peculiarities  are  a  well-known  part  of  American  historv,  did  not  cut 
much  of  a  figure  in  this  expedition.  Colonel  Dunbar,  *'  the  Tardy," 
notwithstanding  his  disgraceful  retreat,  was  made  a  British  Major- 
General  in  '58,  and  a  Lieutenant-General  in  '60.  Lieutenant  Gladwyn, 
distinguished  for  his  very  gallant  defence  of  Detroit  against  Pontiac, 
was  made  Colonel  in  '77,  and  Major-General  in  '82.  Engineer  Harry 
Gordon,  who  first  discovered  the  foe  at  Braddock's  Fields,  became 
Lieutenant-Colonel  in  '77.  Captain  Morris,  Braddock's  aid,  married 
in  1758,  the  beautiful  and  celebrated  Mary  Philipse,  of  New  York,  a 
great  heiress,  for  whose  hand  Washington  himself  was  a  suitor.  Tho 
landed  possessions  of  the  Philipse  family  were  enormous,  embracing 
ranch  of  the  site  of  New  York  City.  Adhering  to  the  crown  at  the 
outbreak  of  the  revolution,  their  estates  were  confiscated  and  the  chil 
dren's  claims  were  purchased  by  John  Jacob  Astor  for  $100,000, 
worth  at  that  time  $5,000,000,  but  at  present,  incalculable.  Lieu- 
tenant-Colonel  Burton  rose  to  be  Major-Geueral  in  'U2.  He  ouc« 


492  OLD   FORT   DUQUE8NE. 

about  this  time  fell  desperately  in  love  with  the  tawny  daughter  of 
an  Indian  Chief,  and  some  stafe  that  he  married  her.  Captain  Lewis, 
of  the  Virginia  Rangers,  had  five  brothers  in  his  Company,  and  be 
came  the  General  Lewis,  whom  Washington,  at  the  outbreak  of  the 
revolution,  considered  the  foremost  of  all  American  soldiers.  Sir 
John  St.  Clair  remained  a  long  time  in  service  in  America,  and  in  '62 
was  made  a  full  Colonel.  At  Braddock's  defeat  he  "  was  shot  through 
the  body  under  the  right  pap ;  "  and  so  we  might  run  on.  Certain  it 
is,  however,  that  Uraddock's  campaign  proved  a  dear  school  to  many 
a  young  and  ambitious  officer  who  afterwards  sought  service  and 
achieved  distinction  in  different  fields. 

s. 

GENERAL  DANIEL  MORGAN'S  LASHES. 

The  whipping  administered  to  General  Daniel  Morgan,  the  cele 
brated  Commander  of  the  Riflemen  of  the  revolution,  is  a  historical 
fact,  acknowledged  by  himself,  but  authorities  ditfer  as  to  the  time, 
place,  and  details.  It  is  also  an  undeniable  fact  that  Morgan,  when 
about  nineteen  years  of  age,  was  a  wagoner  employed  by  Braddock. 
We  have  given  the  common  version  of  this  whipping,  but  Dr.  Wm. 
Hill,  of  Winchester,  Va.,  who  was  General  Morgan's  pastor  and  most 
intimate  friend,  gives  another,  as  follows  : 

"  Upon  one  occasion,  while  assisting  in  changing  his  linen,  I  dis> 
covered  his  back  to  be  covered  with  scars  and  ridges,  from  shouldera 
to  the  waist.  '  General,'  said  I,  'what  has  been  the  matter  with  your 
back?'  'Oh,'  replied  he,  'that  has  been  the  doing  of  old  King 
George.  While  I  was  in  his  service  upon  a  certain  occasion,  he  pro 
mised  to  give  me  five  hundred  lashes.  But  he  failed  in  his  promisa 
and  gave  me  but  four  hundred  and  ninety-nine,  so  he  has  been  owing 
me  one  lash  ever  since.  While  the  drummer  was  laying  them  on  my 
back,  I  heard  him  miscount  one.  I  was  counting  after  him  at  the 
time.  I  did  not  think  it  worth  while  to  tell  him  of  his  mistake,  and 
let  it  go.'" 

T. 

SIR  PETER  HALKET  AND  "SECOND  SIGHT." 

We  do  no  violence  to  probability  in  making  Sir  Peter  Halket  have 
a  vision  of  what  is  called  "  Second  Sight."  It  was  not  only  a 
general  Scotch  belief  of  that  day,  but  long  after  and  even  yet. 
Walter  Scott  makes  great  use  of  it  in  his  novels.  All  will  remember 
in  "  Waverly  "  the  eve  of  the  battle  of  Preston-Pans  in  17 15,  when 
Callum  Beg  aimed  his  fusee  at  the  English  Colonel,  Gardiner,  and  waa 
about  to  shoot,  when  an  aged  Highland  seer  stopped  his  arm,  saying, 
"Spare  your  shot,  his  hour  is  not  yet  come,  but  let  him  beware  of 
to-morrow.  I  see  his  winding  sheet  high  up  on  his  breast."  This  hi 
easily  explained.  The  Taish,  or  Second  Sight,  was  a  faculty  which 
Scottish  seers  were  said  to  possess,  without  any  volition  on  their  part, 
of  seeing  future  events  as  if  present  before  their  eyes.  When  a  vision 
comes,  the  eyes  stare  until  the  object  vanishes,  and  sometimes  a  swoon 
•nsues.  The  time  of  the  foreseen  occurence  is  judged  by  the  time  of 
the  day  at  which  the  vision  occurs;  if  early  iu  the  morning,  it  wil] 


APPENDIX.  493 

he  accomplished  a  few  hours  afterwards;  if  at  noon,  that  very  day, 
If  in  the  evening,  that  night;  if  in  the  night,  according  to  the  late- 
jess  of  the  hour;  in  days,  weeks,  month*,  and  sometimes  years.  A 
shroud  seen  about  a  man  is  to  them  a  sign  of  death.  If  said  shroud 
oe  below  the  middle,  death  will  not  come  for  a  year;  but  if  it  be 
around  the  upper  part  of  the  body,  death  may  be  expected  in  a  few 
hours  or  days.  Thus  the  significance  of  Calluin  Beg's  and  Halket's 
remarks.  Scott,  in  a  note  on  old  Allan-bane,  in  his  "  Lady  of  the 
Lake,"  almost  professes  bis  beli"*  in  the  Taisb,  and  quotes  .Martin's 
»"co>.int.  of  it,  and  how  to  interpret  ti.o  sights  seen.  The  beautiful  and 
irell-kuown  poeni  of  "Lochiel,"  by  Campbell,  will  also  occur  to 
iiie  reader. 

u. 

INDIAN  CHIEFS,  AND  CHRISTIAN  POST. 

The  Chiefs  here  mentioned  were  some  of  the  most  noted  of  that 
day.  The  assertion  made  that  most  of  them,  with  their  follower?, 
could  have  been  firmly  held  in  the  British  interest,  had  they  been  aa 
justly,  liberally,  and  politicly  treated  by  them  as  by  the  French, 
is  a  well-established  historic  fact.  It  admits  of  not  a  particle  ot 
doubt.  The  Delawares  and  Shawnees,  especially,  were  the  old-time 
allies  of  the  British,  and  the  committee  appointed  by  the  Pennsyl 
vania  Assembly  to  enquire  into  the  reasons  of  the  alienation  and 
hostility  of  these  two  tribes  in  particular,  set  forth  very  plainly  the 
causes  for  Indian  estrangement.  The  main  complaint  was  tha't  the 
British  were  constantly,  by  means  of  negotiations,  feastings,  pre 
sents,  etc.,  buying  from  the  Six  Nations  who  claimed  to  be  their  masters, 
the  land  from  under  their  feet.  Scarooyaddy  and  Andrew  Montour 
stated  to  the  Assembly  that  the  defection  was  secretly  encouraged  by 
the  Six  Nations,  and  that  their  hostility  grew  more  bold  and  oj>en 
after  Braddock's  defeat,  owing  to  the  seeming  weakness,  and  want  of 
union  among  the  English,  and  to  their  inability  or  unwillingness  to 
protect  them.  It  might  have  fared  very  much  with  General  Forbes 
as  with  General  Braddock,  had  not  Christian  Frederick  Post,  a 
worthy  Moravian  Missionary,  been  sent  on  two  separate  visits  to  the 
Delawares  and  Shawnees,  gathered  about  the  head  of  the  Ohio.  -Post 
kept  a  very  interesting  diary,  giving  a  faithful  account  of  his  travels, 
difficulties^  and  various  talks  with  the  Indians.  He  found  them  sick 
of  the  war,  anxious  for  peace,  and  re-alliance  with  the  English.  He 
saw  Kings  Beaver,  and  Shingiss;  Killbuck,  KuckqucUickton,  Pisque- 
tumen,  Keteuskund,  and  Delaware  George,  who  seemed  as  much 
suipised  as  pleased  at  Post's  representations,  all  agreeing  that  if  they 
had  known  the  feelings  and  good  intentions  the  British  had  towards 
them,  they  never  would  have  takeu  up  the  hatchet  agaiust  them. 

V. 

COLONEL  BOUQUET'S  DEFEAT  OF  GUYASUTHA. 

The  bloody  and  desperate  battle  fought  on  the  5th  and  (5th  of 
August,  17o"5,  between  Colonel,  afterwards  General  Henry  Bouquet 
and  Guyasutha,  the  celebrated  Seneca  Chief,  is  memorable  for  two 
reasons --because  of  the  ruse  by  rhieh  it  was  won,  and  because  it 


494  OLD   FORT   DUQUE8KB. 

furnishes  a  sample  of  an  Indian  battle  fairly  fought,  airl  gallantly 
won.  For  it  cannot  l>e  well  denied  that  down  to  the  decisive  victory 
of  "  mad  Anthony  Wayne,"  August  20th,  1794,  over  the  combined 
forces  of  the  Ohio  Indians,  which  led  to  the  cession  to  the  United 
States  of  all  Eastern  Ohio,  the  Indians  had  been  almost  uniformly 
successful.  Fighting  Indians  is  an  art  which  has  cost  innumerable 
bloody  and  expensive  battles  to  I  earn,  and  is  to  this  day  very  imper 
fectly  acquired;  as  witness  the  late  struggle  with  the  Oregon 
Modoc  band. 

In  '63,  broke  out  the  famous  Indian  war,  usually  known  as  "  Pon 
tiac's  war,"  though  sometimes  called  "  Guyasutha's  war."  In  this 
contest  all  the  Ohio  Indians  took  part,  and  all  the  British  forts  were 
attacked  about  the  same  time.  Fort  Pitt  which  had  succeeded  Old 
Fort  Duquesne,  and  which  was  then  held  by  a  very  small  force  under 
the  gallant  Captain  Ecuyer,  was  very  vigorously  assailed.  Guy- 
asutha's  Indians  had  surrounded  it  and  cut  oif  all  communication. 
Although  the  savages  had  no  cannon,  they  posted  themselves  under 
the  banks  of  both  rivers,  and  incessantly  harassed  the  garrison  with 
musketry  and  rifles,  hoping  by  tire,  famine,  or  perpetual  annoyance 
to  overcome  the  brave  little  garrison. 

Bouquet  hastily  assembled  a  small  force  of  about  five  hundred, 
cliietly  Highlanders,  totally  unused  to  Indian  warfare,  and  reacheu 
Carlisle  about  July.  lie  found  the  whole  country  in  a  panic,  and  tin 
fort,  and  every  house,  barn  and  shed  crowded  with  settlers'  families 
Forts  Ligonier  and  Bedford  svere  first  reinforced  in  the  most  secret 
and  skilful  manner.  Reaching  Fort  Ligonier  on  the  2nd  of  August 
Bouquet  left  there  his  wagons^  and  adventurously  proceeded  with 
pack-horses  into  a  dangerous  dehle  at  Turtle  Creek. 

When  within  half  a  mile  of  Bushy  Run,  after  a  very  harassing 
march  of  seventeen  miles,  they  were  suddenly  and  violently  attacked 
by  Indians  at  one  P.  M.  These  were  at  first  beaten  off,  but  they  rushed 
in  on  all  sides,  and  in  great  force  occupied  the  heights,  almost  com 
pletely  surrounding  Bouquet's  little  army,  and  pouring  in  a  most 
galling  and  fatal  fire.  A  general  charge  along  the  whole  line  dis 
lodged  the  swarming  Indians  from  the  heights,  but  the  savages 
returned  again  and  again  to  the  attack,  pouring  in  a  murderous  hail 
of  fire  in  front  and  on  both  flanks,  and  even  attacking  the  convoy  in 
the  rear. 

The  contest  became  hotter  and  hotter,  the  savages  rushing  to  the 
attack  with  wonderful  spirit  and  resolution,  and  the  British  holding 
their  own  with  obstinacy  and  tenacity.  It  was  life  or  death  with 
them.  Darkness  alone  ended  the  bloody  battle.  The  brave  little 
force  was  almost  completely  worn  out.  The  day  had  been  exceed 
ingly  sultry  :  they  had  fought  for  seven  hours  on  empty  stomachs  ;  they 
were  nearly  tormented  to  death  by  thirst,  and  had  coolly  and  with 
desperate  courage  withstood  the  galling  hail  from  a  fiery  circle  of 
whooping  demons. 

Right  in  the  leafy  wilderness  where  they  had  fought,  on  thin  hot 
sultry  Ausust  night,  without  one  drop  of  water  to  cool  their  parched 
tongues  and  fevered  bodies,  the  poor  Highlanders  sank  down  to  rest. 
Over  sixty  of  their  number,  including  several  officers,  had  been  killed 
or  wounded.  A  dropping  fire,  and  occasional  yells  and  whoops  were 
kept  up  by  the  Indians;  and  in  constant  fear  of  a  desperate  night 
attack,  the  anxious  hours  were  dragged  through.  At  the  very  first 
streak  of  dawn  a  horrible  din  of  yells  and  shrieks  burst  forth  on  all 
•ides  of  them,  and  volley  after  volley  of  bullets  came  whistling 


APPENDIX.  495 

among  their  thinned  ranks.  The  combat  raged  fiercer  and  hotter 
than  the  day  before.  The  Indians  seemed  more  desperate  and  reck 
less.  They  would  rush  up  to  close  quarters  and  fire  from  every  bush 
and  tree  which  could  yield  cover.  Although  repulsed  at  every  point, 
fresh  Indians  would  take  the  places  of  the  retreating,  and  the  conflict 
raged  more  furiously  as  the  day  advanced.  Yielding  their  ground 
when  a  charge  was  made,  the  crafty  savages  would  vanish  for  a 
moment  only  to  come  out  in  a  new  spot. 

The  troops  maddened  by  thirst,  tainting  from  heat,  and  worn  ou* 
by  incessant  charges  which  led  to  nothing,  were  almost  completely 
exhausted.  Their  distress  was  so  plainly  visible,  that  the  foe 
redoubled  their  horrid  yells  and  fierce  attacks,  approaching  so  near 
»s  to  deride  and  curse  them  in  bad  English.  The  whole  camp  was  in 
niter  confusion.  The  wounded  and  terror-stricken  horses  rushed 
frantically  about,  and  the  drivers  concealed  themselves  or  ran  away, 
and  all  seemed  lost.  The  defence  became  wavering  and  irresolute; 
all  hope  had  gone,  and  death  or  torture  menaced  the  jaded  but  still 
brave  survivors.  If  anything  was  to  be  done,  then  was  just  the 
time,  and  no  moment  to  spare. 

Bouquet  happily  was  equal  to  the  occasion.  In  the  very  midst  of 
despair  he  conceived  and  carried  into  immediate  execution  a  masterly 
stratagem.  He  determined  to  get  the  Indians  into  one  body,  draw 
them  into  a  trap,  and  then  give  them  a  furious  bayonet  charge,  and  so 
end  the  conflict.  Two  Companies  were  ordered  to  fall  back  suddenly 
in  the  centre,  while  the  troops  on  the  flank  should  advance  across  the 
vacancy  in  the  circle  as  if  to  cover  their  retreat.  Meanwhile  another 
Company  of  Light  Infantry,  with  one  of  Grenadiers,  were  ordered  to 
lie  in  ambush  to  support  the  first  two  Companies  on  the  feigned 
retreat.  The  stratagem  took.  These  movements  were  mistaken  for 
defeat  and  retreat.  The  yelling,  screeching  demons,  believing  that 
their  time  had  come  at  last,  leaped  from  cover  on  all  sides  and  rushed 
headlong  to  the  spot,  pouring  in  a  most  galling  fire.  It  seemed  for  a 
moment  that  nothing  could  withstand  that  impetuous  advance  and 
attack,  but  the  two  Companies  which  had  retreated,  had,  under  cover  of 
the  dense  woods  and  underbrush,  made  a  rapid  and  secret  detour,  and 
now  burst  out  on  each  flank  of  the  veiling,  onrushing  crowd  of  savages, 
and  discharged  a  heavy  volley  right  in  their  very  midst.  The  Indians, 
though  taken  completely  by  surprise,  faced  about  with  great  intre- 
pedity,  and  boldly  returned  the  fire,  and  essayed  to  recover  ground. 

It  was  too  late;  with  a  wild  fierce  yell  of  rage,  the  Highlanders 
were  upon  them  with  the  cold  steel.  A  well-conducted  bayonet  charge 
an  Indian  has  never  and  will  never  stand.  The  shock  was  irresis 
tible,  and  they  fled  in  a  tumultuous  mob.  Now  the  two  other  Com 
panies,  who  had  been  crouched  in  ambush,  awaiting  the  moment  to 
strike,  put  in  an  appearance.  As  the  fugitive  throng,  pressed  back 
by  the  advancing  wall  of  bristling  steel,  passed  directly  across  their 
Ir-nit,  they  rose  and  poured  in  a  destructive  volley,  which  ended  the 
whole  matter.  The  four  Companies  now  uniting,  soon  changed  flight 
to  utter  rout.  No  time  was  given  them  to  reload  ;  many  were  shot  or 
driven  down,  while  the  rest  were  scattered  iu  remediless  confusion 
throughout  the  woods. 

While  all  this  took  place  in  one  part  of  the  circle,  the  remaining 
savages  on  the  other  sides  first  watched,  then  wavered,  then  lost 
heart,  and  finally  betook  themselves  to  headlong  flight. 

And  thus  was"  this  gallant  little  force,  and  its  brave  and  skilful 
commander,  saved  from  a  terrible  disostu" — snatched  from  tu« 


496  OLD    FORT    DUQUE8NE. 

verv  jaws  of  death.  Forty  Indians,  some  of  them  their  chief  warriors, 
had"  been  slain  outright.  Bouquet  lost  about  fifty  killed,  and  haa 
sixty  wounded.  The  troops  had  so  greatly  suffered,  and  so  many 
horses  had  been  lost,  that  large  amounts  of  stores  had  to  be  destroyed. 
The  inarch  was  still  difficult  and  tedious,  though  entirely  unmolested, 
and  i*  was  not  until  four  days  after  this  bloody  struggle  that  Bouquet 
arrived  at  Fort  Pitt  with  his  convoy,  and  thus  raised  the  siege. 

w. 

WASHINGTON  WISHES  A  MONUMENT  TO  BRADDOCK. 

Every  student  of  American  'history  is  familiar  with  the  name  of 
General  Gage,  so  indelibly  associated  with  the  outbreak  of  our 
Revolutionary  War.  He  was  second  son  of  Thomas,  eighth  Baro 
net  and  first  Viscount  Gage,  and  was  of  noble  but  poor  family. 
His  father  once  remarking  in  a  political  dispute  that  he  alwiys  gave 
his  sons  their  own  way.  "  Yes,"  said  Wilmington,  "  but  that  is  the 
only  thing  you  ever  do  give  them."  Gage  rose  to  high  rank  in  the 
British  army,  and  married  Margaret,  daughter  of  Peter  Kemble,  Esq., 
<if  the  Cold  Spring,  (New  York,)  family  of  that  name,  and  their  son 
subsequently  succeeded  his  uncle  in  the  Peerage.  The  English  wri 
ter,  Smollett,  Commits  a  grave  error  when,  iu  speaking  of  Braddock's 
dei'eat  and  retreat,  he  says  : 

"  At  last  the  General  received  a  musket-shot  through  his  right  arm 
»nd  lungs,  of  which  he  died  in  a  few  hours,  having  been  carrit-d  off* 
the  field  by  the  bravery  of  Lieutenant- Colonel  Gage,  and  another  of 
his  officers."  Cowardice,  rather  than  conspicuous  bravery,  is  attri 
buted  to  Gage  on  this  side  of  the  Ocean.  In  Washington's  conver 
sation  with  Findley,  quoted  elsewhere,  the  President  stated  there  had 
been  a  coldness  between  Braddock  and  Dunbar,  and  that  after  the 
battle,  he,  Washington,  had  been  sent  with  orders  to  the  latter,  first 
being  commanded  by  Braddock  to  stop  the  retreat;  which  was  the 
easier  to  be  done  since  the  enemy  did  not  pursue.  He  overtook  Gage 
three  mile-s  in  advance  of  the  place  where  the  retreat  was  halted,  to 
which  spot  he  sent  Gage  back  ;  that  this  being  done,  he,  with  two  men, 
in 'one  of  the  wettest  and  darkest  nights,  in  which  they  had  often  to 
alight  and  grope  for  the  road,  and  after  travelling  forty  miles,  arrived 
at  Dunbar's  panic-stricken  cam])  about  sunrise. 

Washington  stated,  moreover,  "that  he  had  taken  care  of  the 
wounded  General,  having  him  carefully  carried  in  a  tumbril,  and  that 
he  buried  Braddock  in  the  middle  of  the  road,  making  the  horse* 
and  wagons  pass  over  it,  to  conceal  the  place  from  the  Indians,  design 
ing  at  some  future  day  to  erect  a  monument  to  his  memory,  which  he 
had  no  opportunity  of  doing,  till  after  the  Revolutionary  War,  when 
ht,  made  diligent  search  for  the  grave,  but  the  road  hud  been  so  much 
turned  and  the  clear  land  so  extended,  that  it  could  not  be  found." 

This  is  a  passage  exceedingly  creditable  to  Washington's  heart 
Gratitude  is  a  very  rare  virtue,  and  that  he  should  thus  endeavor  to 
pay  back  on  the  dying  and  deserted  old  General,  the  kindness  and 
attention  he  himself  had  but  a  short  time  before  received  from  him, 
and  that  he  should  be  so  anxious  to  show  respect  to  a  brave,  but 
unfortunate  and  foully-aspersed  soldier,  as  to  hunt  for  Braddock's 
m-irlfcted  grave  after  a  lung  and  bitter  war  with  that  General's 
countrymen,  is  something  of  which  an  American  can  well  be  proud. 

We  have  V&tcd  in  our  story  how  it  bus  remained  to  Pittsburgher* 


APPENDIX.  497 

«f  the  present  day  to  rescue  this  neglected  grave  from  total  neglect. 
This  Monument  will,  we  trust,  yet  be  erect  ea.  It  Li  not  an  American, 
but  a  British  duty.  Braddoek's  battle-field,  hard  by  which  lies  the 
dust  of  so  many  English  soldiers,  should  also  have  its  appropriate 
monument. 

X. 

COLONEL  JAMES  SMITH'S  ACCOUNT  OF  THE  TORTURE. 

The  scene  which  we  have  described  as  presenting  itself  to  Talbot 
tnd  Smith  on  the  evening  of  the  great  battle,  is  pretty  fully  taken 
from  the  published  narrative  of  the  latter.  As  stated,  Smith  was  the 
only  English-speaking  white  man  who  witnessed  the  French  and 
Indian  departure  for  the  battle-field,  the  return  of  the  conquerors, 
and  the  subsequent  torture  of  the  prisoners,  and  there  is  not  the 
slightest  reason  to  doubt  his  veracity.  We  quote  his  own  words: 
"  I  had  observed  some  of  the  old  country  soldiers  speak  Dutch  ;  as  I 
spoke  Dutch,  I  went  to  one  of  them  and  asked  him  what  was  tho 
news.  He  told  me  that  a  runner  had  just  arrived,  who  said  that 
Braddoek  would  certainly  be  defeated  ;  that  the  Indians  and  French 
had  surrounded  him,  and  were  concealed  behind  trees,  and  in  gulliew, 
and  kept  np  a  constant  fire  on  the  English,  and  that  they  saw  the 
English  falling  in  heaps,  and  if  they  did  not  take  the  river,  which 
was  the  only  gap,  and  make  their  escape,  there  would  not  be  one  man 
left  alive  before  sundown.  Some  time  after  this,  I  heard  a  number  of 
scalp  halloos  and  saw  a  Company  of  Indians  and  French  coming  in. 
I  observed  they  had  a  great  many  bloody  scalps,  Grenadiers'  caps, 
British  canteens,  bayonets,  etc.,  with  them.  They  brought  the  news 
that  Braddock  was  defeated.  After  that  another  Company  came  in, 
which  appeared  to  be  about  one  hundred,  and  chiefly  Indians,  and  it 
seemed  to  me  that  almost  every  one  of  this  Company  was  carrying 
scalps;  after  this  came  another  Company  with  a  number  of  wagon 
horses,  and  also  a  great  many  scalps.  Those  that  were  coming  in, 
and  those  that  had  arrived  kept  a  constant  firing  of  small  arms,  and 
also  the  great  guns  in  the  fort,  which  were  accompanied  with  the  most 
hideous  shouts  and  yells  from  all  quarters;  so  that  it  appeared  to  me 
as  if  the  infernal  regions  had  broke  loose. 

"  About  sundown  I  beheld  a  small  party  corning  in  with  about  a 
do/en  prisoners  stripped  naked,  with  their  hands  tied  behind  their 
backs,  and  their  faces  and  part  of  their  bodies  blackened; — these  pri 
soners  they  burned  to  death  on  the  bank  of  the  Allegheny  river, 
opposite  to  the  fort.  I  stood  on  the  fort  wall  until  1  beheld  them 
begin  to  burn  one  of  these  men  ;  they  had  him  tied  to  a  stake,  and 
kept  touching  him  with  firebrands,  red-hot  irons,  etc.,  and  he  scream 
ing  in  the  most  doleful  manner — the  Indians,  in  the  meantime,  yelling 
like  infernal  spirits.  As  this  scene  appeared  too  shocking  for  me  to 
bahold,  I  retired  to  my  lodgings  both  sore  and  sorry." 

Y. 

THE  INDIAN  CUSTOM  OF  ADOPTION. 

NV>  hirange  custom  among  the  American  Indians  seems  RO  univer 
sally  established,  or  so  well-attested,  as  that  of  the  adoption  into  their 
tribes  and  families  of  those  captured  in  war,  or  on  their  various  forays, 
and  of  the  subsequent  kind  and  impartial  treatment  received.  They 
appear  absolutely  to  make  no  diilervncu  between  them  anJ  their  own 

tt 


498  OLD    FORT    DUQUE33JE. 

Kith  and  kin.  The  formal  ceremony  of  adoption  is  observed  with 
solemnity.  The  one  Talbot  is  made  to  go  through,  including  the 
speeches,  and  the  washing  by  young  squaws  in  the  river,  was  bor 
rowed  from  the  actual  experience  of  Colonel  James  Smith,  noticed 
elsowl'ere.  American  border  annuls  abound  in  instances  of  the 
vl'.iption  of  both  children  and  grown  people  of  both  sexes,  and  of 
their  restoration  to  friends  and  relatives  after  many  years  of  separa 
tion.  Some  become  such  complete  Indians,  or  form  such  strong 
Attachments  to  their  new  relatives,  that  they  refuse  to  quit  them. 

We  have,  elsewhere,  recounted  Colonel  Henry  Bouquet's  victory 
orer  the  Indians  at  Bushy  llun.  The  next  year  he  made  a  highly 
successful  campaign  against  the  Ohio  Indians,  which  resulted  in  the 
return  of  over  three  hundred  captives  to  their  hcrues.  A  large 
number  of  these  had  "been  adopted,  and  we  cannot  better  illustrate 
our  subject  than  by  showing  their  behaviour.  Many  had  become  com 
pletely  attached  to  their  habits  of  life,  and  returned  to  their  settlements 
with  great  reluctance.  The  scene  when  the  captives  were  brought  to 
Bouquet's  cam]),  and  delivered  up,  is  said  by  those  who  witnessed  it 
to  have  been  exceedingly  touching  and  affecting.  The  Indians  used 
every  possible  device,  first  to  avoid,  and  then  to  delay  this  delivery, 
but  Bouquet  made  it  a  sine  qiui  non;  they  shed  torrents  of  tears, 
earnestly  and  most  affectionately  commending  these  adopted  relatives 
to  the  care  and  protection  of  the  officers.  So  long  as  they  remained 
in  camp  the  Indians  visited  them  from  day  to  dav;  and  brought  them 
skins,  horses,  corn,  and  many  rich  presents  as  tokens  of  their  sincere 
and  tender  affection. 

Not  only  this,  but  when  Bouquet's  army  took  up  its  backward 
inarch,  some  of  the  Indians  solicited  and  obtained  leave  to  accompany 
their  former  captives  all  the  way  to  Fort  Pitt,  and  employed  them* 
selves  in  hunting  and  bringing  provisions  for  them  on  the  road.  A 
young  Mingo  carried  this  still  further,  and  gave  an  instance  of  con 
stant  devotion,  which  is  well  worthy  of  honorable  mention.  He  had 
formed  so  strong  an  attachment  to  a  young  Virginia  captive  as  to  call 
her  his  wife; against  all  remonstrances  of  the  imminent  danger  he 
exposed  himself  to  by  approaching  the  frontiers,  where  the  rude  and 
lawless  pioneers  were  exceedingly  hostile  to  all  Indiana,  he  persisted 
in  following  her  far  beyond  the  border,  and  at  the  risk  of  being 
killed. by  the  relations  of  those  who  had  been  captured  or  scalped  by 
those  of  his  nation. 

Some  grown  persons  who  had  lived  long  with  the  Indians,  had  be 
come  so  much  attached  to  them  that  the  Shawnees  were  obliged  to  bind 
several  of  them  and  force  them  along  to  camp.  Some  women  who 
had  been  delivered  up,  afterwards  found  means  to  escape  and  run 
back  to  the  Indian  towns,  while  others,  who  could  not  make  their 
escape,  clung  to  their  tawny  acquaintances  at  parting,  and  continued 
many  days  in  bitter  lamentations,  even  refusing  all  food.  These  un 
doubted  facts  challenge  our  esteem,  and  shed  honor  ui>on  the  Indian 
fharacter.  It  is  generally  admitted  that  those  they  adopt  are  treated 
exactly  like  their  own  relatives.  No  difference  in  food,  raiment, 
or  treatment. 

z. 

THE  DEFEAT  OF  VARUS,  AND  VISIT  OF  GERMANICUS. 

After  the  burial  of  the  two  Ilalket  skeletons,  the  remains  of  foul 
kindred  soldi*-*  were  gaihurud  together  aud  deposited  in  a  larye,  shat 


APPENDIX.  499 

low  pi'  near  by.  Hut  the  work  must  have  been  very  imperfectly  done, 
•ince,  in  177<>,  at  the  time  Justice  Yeates  visited  the  battle-field 
.  »rther  on),  lit;  saw  numerous  skulls,  and  skeletons  (in  many  instances 
mere  di^jeclti  mrnitiru)  lying  all  over  the  ground.  About  twenty  years 
ago,  some  laborers,  engaged  on  a  cutting  for  the  Pennsylvania  Central 
11.  R.  (which  road  now  skirts,  and  in  some  places  divides,  the  battle 
ground,),  came  upon  a  mass  of  these  buried  remains,  and  the  discovery 
therewith  of  some  hundreds  of  British  guineas  created  a  great  excite- 
Di?nt  at  the  time  and  much  profitless  search  for  more. 

Tliis  visit  to  Braddock's  Field,  and  the  gathering  together  and 
burial  of  the  skeletons  found  therein,  has  been  appropriately  likened 
by  Pittsburgh's  historian,  Neville  B.  Craig,  to  a  somewha't  similar 
event  of  old  classic  times,  and  of  which  the  Latin  historian,  Tacitus, 
gives  a  touching  and  deeply  interesting  account.  We  can  only  very 
brieJly  refer  to  it. 

In  the  year  9  of  the  Christian  era,  Varus,  with  an  array  of  three 
legions  and  some  cohorts,  was  induced  by  treacherous  advisers  to 
penetrate  far  into  the  territory  of  the  Bructeri,  Germany.  Having 
advanced  for  many  days  through  thick  forests,  they  found  themselves 
in  a  deep,  sombre  valley,  where  they  were  beset  by  German  foes,  and 
badly  defecated  after  a  desperate  struggle  lasting  for  three  whole  davs. 
Varus  himself  dared  not  survive  his  disgrace,  but  killed  himself  with 
his  own  sword. 

Some  time  afterwards  another  Roman  army,  under  the  celebrated 
Germanicus,  found  itself  victor  in  the  same  country,  and  while  jnir- 
suing  the  fugitive  Germans  came  upon  the  forest  of  Tentobrugmm. 
in  which  Varus  had  been  defeated,  and  where  lay  the  unburiea 
remains  of  the  massacred  legions.  "  Touched  by  this  affecting  circum 
stance,"  writes  Tacitus,  "  Germanicus  resolved  to  pay  the  last  human 
offices  to  the  relics  of  that  unfortunate  Commander,  and  his  slaughtered 
Boldiers.  The  same  tender  sentiment  diffused  itself  through  the 
army  ;  some  felt  the  touch  of  nature  for  their  relatives ;  others  for  their 
friends.  The  army  marched  through  a  gloomy  solitude.  The  first 
camp  of  Varus  appeared  in  view.  Further  on  were  traced  the  ruins  of 
a  rampart,  and  the  hollow  of  a  ditch  well  nigh  tilled  up.  This  was 
supposed  to  be  the  spot  where  the  few  who  escaped  the  general 
massacre  made  their  last  effort  and  perished  in  the  attempt.  The 
plains  around  were  white  with  bones;  in  some  places  thinly  scattered; 
111  others  lying  in  heaps,  as  the  men  happened  to  fall  in  night,  or  in  a 
body  resisted  to  the  last.  Fragments  of  javelins  and  limbs  of  horses 
lay  scattered  in  the  field.  Human  skulls  were  seen  upon  the  trunks 
of  trees.  In  the  adjacent  woods  stood  the  savage  altars,  where  the 
tribunes  and  principal  centurions  were  offered  up  a  e»;rifice  with 
barbarous  rites. 

"  Some  of  the  soldiers  who  survived  that  dreadful  day,  and  after 
wards  broke  their  chains,  related  the  particulars.  '  Here  the  Com 
manders  of  the  legions  were  put  to  the  sword ;  on  that  spot  the  eagles 
were  seized;  there  Varus  received  his  first  wound;  ami  this  is  the 
place  where  he  gave  himself  the  mortal  stab,  and  died  by  his  own 
sword.  Yonder  mound  waa  the  tribunal  from  which  Arminius 
harangued  his  countrymen;  here  he  fixed  his  gibbets;  there  he  dug 
the  funeral  trenches,  and  in  that  quarter  he  offered  every  mark  of 
scorn  and  insolence  to  the  colors  and  the  Roman  F.agles.' 

"  Six  years  had  elapsed  since  the  overthrow  of  Varus  ;  and  now,  on 
•he  same  spot,  the  Roman  army  collected  the  bones  of  their  slaugh- 
Usrud  couutrytueu,— whether  'they  were  burying  the  remains  of 


500  OLD   FORT   DUQUESJTE. 

•trousers  or  of  their  own  friends,  no  man  knew.  All,  however,  con- 
«idered  themselves  as  performing  the  last  obsequies  to  their  kin.lred 
and  their  brother  soldiers.  While  employed  in  this" pious  office,  their 
nearts  were  torn  with  contending  passions;  by  turns  oppressed  with 
grief  and  burning  for  revenge.  A  monument  to  the  memory  of  the 
dead  was  raised  with  turf.  Geruianicus,  with  his  own  hand,  laid 
the  first  sod." 

BRADDOCK'S  FIELDS  IN  THESE  MODERN  TIMES. 

Judge  Veates  paid  a  visit  to  Braddock's  Field  in  1776,  and  even 
then,  more  than  twenty  years  after  the  battle,  saw  many  striking  signs 
of  t)  f  desperate  conflict.  Skeletons  unburied,  huge  limbs  cut  off  by 
the  c.i.uion  ball,  and  the  trunks  and  branches  of  those  yet  thickly 
standing  marked  and  scarred  for  thirty  feet  up  with  ball  and 
grape,  lie  writes:  "  My  feelings  were  heightened  by  the  warm  and 
glowing  narrative  of  that  day's  events  by  Dr.  Walker,  who  was  an 
eye  witness.  He  pointed  out  the  ford  where  the  army  crossed  the 
Monongahela  (below  Turtle  Creek,  eight  hundred  yards).  A  finer 
sight  could  not  have  been  beheld;  the  shining  barrels  of  the  muskets; 
the  excellent  order  of  the  men ;  the  cleanliness  of  their  apparel ;  the 
joy  depicted  upon  every  face  at  being  so  near  Fort  Dnquesne, 
the  highest  object  of  their  wishes.  The  music  re-echoed  through 
the  mountains;  how  brilliant  the  morning;  how  melancholy  the 
evening." 

That  unhappy  field  was  witness  long  after  to  another  strange  an^ 
startling  scene.  It  was  on  Friday,  August  1st,  1794,  and  during  the 
oeightof  the  Western  Insurrection — generally  known  as  the  "  whiskey- 
rebellion  " — that  many  thousand  armed  men  assembled  by  e.xpressei 
sent  through  the  four  counties  involved,  under  penalty  of  bavin/ 
their  property  destroyed  if  they  absented  themselves.  A  Pittsburgh 
delegation  was  there,  urged  by  the  threat  that  as  they  harbored  the 
chief  opponents  to  the  insurrection,  they  must  appear  on  the  ground 
to  assert  their  adherence  to  it,  or  their  town  would  be  burned  down 
about  their  ears.  The  motives  which  gathered  this  multitude  were 
varied.  Many  came  from  fear;  many  from  curiosity;  many  were 
deceived  into  the  belief  that  it  was  a  simple  militia  muster,  and  all 
seemed  confused  as  to  what  were  best  to  be  done. 

The  day  was  spent  in  eating,  drinking,  and  smoking.  At  night  the 
fires  were  lighted,  and  groups  of  men  chatted,  sung,  gamed,  or 
earnestly  discussed  under  the  trees.  David  Bradford,  mounted  on  a 
superb  horse,  with  splendid  trappings,  and  arrayed  in  full  martial 
uniform,  wita  plumes  floating,  and  sword  drawn,  acted  aa  Major- 
General  to  this  remarkable  and  heterogeneous  collection  of  country 
men.  The  good  people  of  Pittsburgh  were  greatly  alarmed  at  the 
threats  and  rumors  carried  to  their  ears  that  an  attack  was  to  be  made 
on  their  fort,  and  their  town  destroyed.  Goods  were  packed,  houses 
abandoned,  guards  stationed,  and  the  whole  town  was  in  a  state  of 
terrible  commotion  and  dismay,  but  happily,  peaceful  counsels, 
under  the  politic  advice  and  entreaties  of  leaders,  prevailed,  and  it 
was  agreed  that  the  insurgents  should  simply  march  through  the 
place  to  impress  and  overawe  the  citizens,  and  should  then  cross  the 
Monongahela  and  disperse. 

The  procession,  said  to  be  about  two  and  a  half  miles  long,  and  to 
number  between  five  and  six  thousand  persons,  entered  the  town  about 
noon  of  Saturdav,  all  in  file  and  in  good  order.  The  guns  of  the  fort 
were  loaded,  and  the  little  garrison  of  two  hundred  and  fifty  scldiera 


APPENDIX.  601 

drawn  up,  prepared  to  give  (lie  insurgents  n  hot  reception  should  the? 
Tenture  an  attack,  but  they  prudently  gave  the  fort  a  wide  berth. 
anil  after  marching  through  the  main  street,  and  being  helped 
liberally  to  whiskey  by  the  frightened  citi/ens,  they  noisily  oroxM-d 
the  Jlonongahela  in  boats  about  nightfall,  ami  gradually  dispersed; 
but  not  until  the  most  reckless  or  drunken  of  their  number  had  tired 
the  barns  and  stacks  of  Colonel  K irk patriek,  located  on  the  top  of 
Coal  Hill,  and  near  by  the  spot  where  we  have  located  the  first  scene 
of  our  tale.  The  flames  cast  a  lurid  glare  over  the  little  town  and 
surrounding  country,  but  fortunately  this  was  the  extent  of  tl.e 
mischief  done,  and  then  this  strange  impromptu  army  scattered  to 
their  various  homes.  Although  this  vast  assemblage  gave  weight 
and  impetus  to  the  insurrection,  yet  it  was  soon  after  completely 
suppressed,  and  without  bloodshed. 

Since  that  troublous  time,  Braddock's  Fields  have  been  left  to  the 
peaceful  labors  of  the  husbandman,  and  waving  fields  of  rich  grain 
liave  year  after  year  occupied  that  "dark  and  bloody  ground." 
Many  is  the  bullet  or  grape-shot  we  have  gathered  on  that  fatal 
plain.  It  is  now  staked  off,  and  will  soon  be  completely  covered  with 
the  elegant  mansions  of  Pittsburgh  merchants,  and  no  monument  |i 
yet  erected  to  announce  to  a  curious  public  the  exact  locality  of  thii 
impoitant  battle  and  disastrous  defeat.  Pittsburgh  should  bestir 
Itself  io  this  matter. 


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